More Than Happiness
by Keian
Summary: One Shepard's search for 'more than happiness'. Post-ME3 (destroy ending). Femshep/Samara. Cover artwork by Saltycatfish. **COMPLETE**
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Mass Effect and its characters are property of Bioware/EA. I'm just a fan!

**Author's Note**: Please note that this story won't take the Citadel DLC's 'romance' between Shep and Samara into consideration. While I appreciate that Samara's new writer attempted to give us closure under limited time constraints, the scene felt oddly forced and out of the blue (to me). I started this fic a year ago and already have my headcanon mostly sorted, so this will be my version of the romance.

I should warn everyone that I only began writing this to give my Shepard some closure. I'm not a writer by any stretch of the imagination, therefore, please be patient with me. (But please _do_ give feedback. I'm eager to improve.)

Lastly, it's always been a bit jarring for me to read fanfics where other Shepards' first names are prominently used (there are exceptions) so I'll do my best to leave my Shepard's first name out of this.

Oh, and this first chapter is a prologue of sorts so bear with me.

Okay, I'll shaddap now.

* * *

Shepard grimaced and tried to push the pain from her mind.

The sensation of her injuries were no longer being dulled by the adrenaline she'd received from the initial charge towards the beam or from confronting the Illusive Man. Her attempts to ignore the slow dribble of blood trailing from stinging cuts along her face were somewhat successful, but the searing and mangled burns all over her body were much more difficult to tune out. The worst ache of all, however, was in one of her legs; white hot agony lashed up her side and caused her to grind her teeth.

_Pain is good_, she reminded herself. _The fact that you can still feel your leg means it's still there_.

Cradling her throbbing arm, she tried once more to focus her attention on the three options in front of her.

Her gaze flitted to the station on the left. Control? Had the Illusive Man been right? Was the best course of action for humanity and the galaxy to harness the power and technology of the Reapers?

The ghostly child-like construct had said that choosing this path would allow her conscience to guide the Reapers moving forward... but how infallible was it? What if she was eventually overridden by someone or something that could then seize control of the Reapers and restart all of this horror? Worst, what if one day, many generations and lifetimes down the line, her beliefs ended up so removed and alien from organics that she became a threat herself? Or, what if absolute power corrupted her conscience? While she had the utmost confidence in her own convictions and sense of justice, the entity in control would no longer really be her, would it?

No, she only had one shot at this. Which meant she could not risk the future of _everyone_ on a choice that presented so many questions. The mere _presence_ of the Reapers would be a threat. An eternity was simply too long for any number of things to go wrong. She could not allow the Reapers to exist intact. This meant control was out of the question.

Her eyes moved to the pylon in the center. This option would merge all organic and synthetic life into a hybrid. Into "perfection", as the AI child had called it.

Some instinct deep within her recoiled. While it was tempting to erase that which divided, this option simply felt _wrong_. Not only would it remove diversity and the perspectives that came with it, it would also remove _choice_. Every single living being would be altered by this decision.

_Altered without their consent. _Shepard shook her head. She could not—did not have the right to—make that decision for them.

Which left her with destroy. She turned to stare at the station on her right. If chosen, this option would unleash a blast that would decimate the Reapers.

_Along with all advanced technology_, she thought grimly.

Due to all of her cybernetic implants, this decision would likely kill her. But she was a marine; she did not fear death if it meant saving the people she was sworn to protect. No, self-preservation was not a priority.

Her mind briefly wondered which technology would be affected and how much it would set civilization back._ But everything can be rebuilt_, she reasoned. _And they would have plenty of time to, once I removed the threat of extinction. _

Nodding, her thoughts fell to her last and main concern: the non-reaper synthetics out in the galaxy. This option would wipe-out the Geth. Hell, it would kill EDI.

She hesitated as she thought of her friend. EDI had come such a long way in such a short period of time. Despite the pain she was under, a wistful smile spread across her face as she remembered the endless queries the AI had peppered her with. EDI had wanted to understand human behavior so she could emulate it, but EDI had already possessed one of the most defining qualities of organic life: curiosity. Shepard would be condemning a friend's _life _with this choice.

The muscles of Shepard's jaw tightened as her contemplation turned to the Geth. She had _just_ witnessed their "birth" what seemed like yesterday. She had _just_ secured peace for them after so many centuries of fighting with the Quarians. _They_ were the perfect example of how synthetics and organics _could_ coexist in the universe. The ghostly child construct was **_wrong_**. Its solutions, such as the Reapers, were **_flawed_**. All the more reason to end the Reapers **_now_**, while she had the chance. Yes, the blood of an entire race would be on her hands, but—hey, she was N7 for a reason. She was no stranger to difficult decisions or to genocide. Aratoht had clearly illustrated that.

It had to be destroy.

Mind made, she took a step towards the station to her right and quickly bit back a cry of pain. The sensation of a thousand burning needles assaulted her side and the suffering was so brutally intense that she nearly passed out.

_No, damn it! _She had not come this far to fail now.

_Move it, soldier_! The thought was her own, though the voice she heard in her head was that of her first boot camp instructor from all those years ago.

The Alliance had done its job in conditioning her to push past all of her limits. During times of great distress, or, when she thought she could not go on, she would automatically hear the voice of her former drill sergeant. It always succeeded in moving her ass forward. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to move towards her destination.

After what felt like an eternity but was actually only moments later, she limped to a halt within range of the cylindrical structure.

_This is it_, she thought as she stared intently ahead. Was she sure?

_Only your actions will be remembered. May you choose them well_. The smooth lyrical voice that played through her mind was one that never failed to simultaneously hearten and ground her. She took a second to consider Samara's wise words and the choice before her.

Yes, she was positive. When she had first learned of the existence of the Reapers all those years ago, she'd set out on a mission to stop them. And now, here she was, with a chance to put a stop to them once and for all.

She lifted her pistol and sighted down its barrel. Resolve lined her face as she pulled the trigger. She steadied her arm and pulled the trigger again. And again. And again.

Shards of glass ricocheted in every direction and the threatening rumble of an incoming explosion filled the air. Shepard, however, saw and heard none of it. Her mind had transported her deep into her memories, showing her flash after flash of her deepest regrets, like some morbid facsimile of a slideshow.

A keen sense of sorrow filled her as she saw her parents. They'd been killed by batarian raiders while she'd been too young and inadequate to help them. They were the reason she'd joined the military; the reason she'd strove to be strong and vowed to protect the weak.

As they slowly faded away, she saw Corporal Jenkins, one of the very few soldiers to die under her command. Though she had not known him well, his death had made her feel incredibly powerless at the time. She had resolved to become a better leader from that point on. She hoped she'd done his memory proud.

Kaidan Alenko appeared next. One of the kindest, gentlest souls she had ever met. He'd been a model soldier, a good friend, and the most difficult decision of her life. _Up until now, anyway_.

Her throat caught as Mordin and then Thane coalesced into form. She couldn't help but wonder if things would have turned out differently for them if she'd been faster, better, stronger.

She watched as the next figure solidified. Legion.

_I'm so sorry, Legion_, she thought, guilt and resolve coiling in her gut._ I'm **so** sorry_. _But this **must** be done. I hope you can understand._

Legion echoed off and Anderson appeared. She drew in a deep breath. The man had been like a surrogate father to her and the fresh pain of losing him still stung sharply. Of all the people she'd hoped would make it out of this mess alive, he'd been among the top of the list.

Then, at last, the one who _was_ at the top of said list manifested in front of her.

Majestically regal features and impossibly striking pale-blue eyes filled her vision.

_In another time... another life, _she heard Samara say, her lips mere inches away as they stood aboard the Starboard Observation lounge.

Another type of regret filled her. She traced every memorized curve and angle of Samara's face as she pondered over what could have been but never was.

Over the past several months as the galaxy had crumbled around her, Shepard had clung to the idea that she was working towards a safe future for Samara and her daughters. Mordin had said it best. It was hard to imagine saving a galaxy. Too many people. They turned into faceless statistics. Shepard had needed a personal connection. A reason to keep pushing. And Samara had been it.

_Maybe once the Reapers are gone, she can finally find some peace with_ _Falere._

Shepard wasn't a religious woman, nor was she in the habit of praying, but she pleaded fervently to every deity or power willing to listen. _Please. Just give Samara some happiness_.

The sound of thundering explosions were getting too deafening to tune out now. Shepard felt the ground lurch as a deep tremor shook it, shattering her mind's illusions, and bringing her back into her rapidly deteriorating reality.

As an intense heat enguled all of her senses, the five words she'd heard thousands of times in her head replayed one final time:

_In another time... another life._

An odd sense of calm overtook her as she listened to the promise.

_Looks like I'm going ahead, Samara. See you on the flip side_.

Then, all thoughts ceased to exist as the darkness claimed her.

* * *

"Two incoming!"

Samara planted a bullet between a charging husk's eyes and watched it crumble to the ground before she turned towards her left flank. The Alliance soldier who had yelled out the warning was crouched behind a giant slab of broken concrete, trying to make himself small in order to avoid the stream of bullets peppering his position.

She reached within to gather her power. A split second later, she unleashed the buildup of energy in a powerful biotic throw. The bolt soared through the crisp night air and landed squarely in the chest of one of the large bulbous abominations. The force of the throw hefted it off its feet and slammed it into the side of a nearby building. It made a sickening wet crunch and remained where it fell.

Satisfied that it was no longer a threat, Samara aimed her assault rifle at the second cannibal and squeezed the trigger. The first several well-aimed rounds tore away its armor plating and exposed its grotesque flesh. The next round sunk deep into its shoulder, causing a foul liquid to ooze out. The final three rounds connected with its head. It collapsed in a gurgle of alien ichor.

The Alliance soldier looked her way and signaled his gratitude. Samara nodded once, then took advantage of the rare lull in combat to assess their situation.

A couple of soldiers had taken the opportunity to do some quick gear repairs but she noted that the majority of them simply opted to rest and catch their breath. She could not blame them; she had found this group of Alliance soldiers around midday and they had been entrenched in round after round of brutal ground combat ever since. Nightfall had arrived several hours ago and based on their battered expressions, it was clear that most of the soldiers were well beyond the point of exhaustion.

She glanced past the empty area directly behind them towards the large structure about fifty yards in the distance. The building had once been a bank but had been converted into a refugee shelter several weeks ago as survivors scurried from foxhole to foxhole. It was now home to several dozen civilians—most of them children.

The Alliance had sent three platoons, each consisting of four 5-man squads, to secure and defend the facility. From what she'd gathered, they'd done a remarkable job of holding their position until a day ago. That was when a bright beam had appeared at the far edge of the southeastern horizon—off in the direction of London—and the amount of Reapers had increased tenfold.

Down to half their numbers, they would have already lost their hold had she not arrived when she did. Tired, hungry and cornered, Samara knew they would not be able to last much longer, even with her assistance. She estimated that they would be overrun by morning—perhaps midday, at the latest.

The sound of skittering footsteps alerted the unit to more incoming hostiles. A handful of insectile creatures scampered into view just as they regained their position behind cover. Bright blue sighting lasers filled the air. Three beams hovered around Samara's vicinity, but she ignored them—she knew her shields were full. Without preamble, she aimed at the large protruding sac in the center of one of the ravagers and fired.

The sac burst open and several small creatures dropped to the ground. She disregarded the new targets and focused on the green fleshy area that had become exposed. Several well placed shots later, the ravager collapsed into itself, its legs kicking in its final death throes. Picking out another ravager, she repeated her tactic. A marine to her left mimicked her strategy and focused one of the three lingering ravagers. A couple of privates to her right swept their weapons along the ground to clean up the tiny swarmers.

Suddenly, an unnatural scream sliced through air; so loud it could clearly be heard through the din of gunfire. The sound was grating—like metal on metal—and she felt the skin on the back of her neck crawl.

_Banshee_.

Another shriek filled the air.

_Two banshees_.

She searched the field for the source of the wails only to see another wave of husks and several cannibals weaving through the rubble towards them.

"Shit! They are endless!" the female private to her right groaned.

Samara pursed her lips. It was looking grim indeed but they could not give up. The innocents in the shelter depended on them. She pooled her energy and thrust her hand in an upward motion. Several husks within several meters of each other were all lifted and thrown off their feet. A soldier lobbed a grenade to finish them off while Samara reoriented her rifle on a cannibal that had wandered out of cover.

The double spine-raking shrieks carved through the air again. She squinted her eyes slightly as she finally spotted one of the banshees about fifty yards away, seemingly materializing out of the smoke, dust and darkness. The other one appeared twenty yards to the right of it, just as foreboding as its twin. They began advancing slowly; their movements so languid that they appeared to be gliding. Their limbs were twisted into grotesque stalks—like the dried branches of a dead tree—and their mouths were gaped open in an ugly snarl. Instead of eyes, empty abysses stared out from hollows in their skulls.

_Goddess have mercy_.

Samara aimed at the asari abomination on the left and unleashed several rounds at its head. She quickly threw up a biotic shield as it retaliated by hurling a bolt of energy towards her. Returning the favor, she slung a biotic throw of her own. Feeling the familiar _tick-tick-tick_ of gunfire on her barrier, she ducked behind the low wall in front of her. Then, leaning out the side, she took out the cannibal that was still firing stupidly at the spot where she'd disappeared behind the wall.

Straightening, she refocused her attention on the banshee to find that it had teleported forward and was now less than twenty-five yards away. She redoubled her efforts by sending a reave at it.

Samara noted that the second banshee on the right was still largely untouched. The Alliance soldiers were too busy clearing out the other ground units: A ravager, two cannibals and a handful of husks still remained.

Realizing that they would have to focus their fire for any chance of survival, she drew from the pool deep within and swiped her arm upwards again. Her pull managed to knock two husks out of the equation. She quickly joined her shots with the soldier to her left and together they eliminated the last ravager. As she reoriented her rifle, she found that the rest of the husks had been slain while she'd been occupied and so she sighted down one of the two remaining cannibals.

As her target died, the two banshees completed another biotic charge. They were now less than ten yards away.

Samara signaled for the soldiers to fall back; they needed to put as much distance between themselves and the banshees as possible. They would not be able to retreat far, however, as only about fifteen yards of cover remained—the rest of the path leading to the bank was wide open and offered zero protection.

The soldiers took turns laying down cover fire on the last cannibal as they strategically fell back. Samara split her focus as she hurled a reave at the banshee on the right and then used gunfire to attempt to finish off the one on her left. It shrieked in anger as her bullets peppered its head and it swiped one of its gnarled hand upwards, as though to swat at an annoying fly.

At last, she heard her shots successfully break through its defenses and find purchase. Four rounds sunk into the banshee's malformed skull in a loud succession of _thud-thud-thud-thud _and the creature let out one final ear-piercing parting gift before it disintegrated into the ground.

Samara had no time for relief. She quickly turned her attention to the second banshee. Its sight was set on the female private several yards to her right. Samara gathered her energy and unleashed the buildup at it, hoping to draw its attention but it stubbornly remained focused on the private. The other Alliance soldiers had begun spraying their shots into the banshee to no avail; its barrier was still too strong and all of their bullets ricocheted harmlessly off of it.

The telltale patter of approaching footsteps signaled yet another wave of incoming hostiles and the sound momentarily distracted the soldiers. In the split second they surveyed the field for the new arrivals, the banshee blinked forward and closed off the remaining distance between it and its target.

Samara's eyes widened as she watched the female private get hefted into the air, the banshee's gnarled fingers wrapped around the soldier's throat. Inhaling sharply, she anticipated the sight of flesh being impaled and of blood squirting into the air. Instead, as the banshee wound back one of its arms in preparation to strike, a flash of light, crimson in color and traveling so fast it passed through them in the breadth of a heartbeat, engulfed the entire area.

Instantly, all of their foes disintegrated into piles of ashes.

The private's boots hit the ground with a thud and she slumped forward, desperately gasping for air. All of the soldiers began to tentatively lower their weapons, shock and confusion evident on their faces.

Samara swiftly turned her head in search of the source of the light. Her eyes settled on the brightness off in the southeastern horizon. It had turned crimson, like blood. The beam seemed to shine down from the heavens itself; a blinding ray of plasma that penetrated through the clouds and pierced into the earth.

In the distance, the giant forms of the reapers could be seen collapsed on the ground. They thrashed their overturned legs helplessly, reminding Samara of dying insects.

_Could it be over?_ _Has Shepard succeeded? _she wondered.

Slowly, she let out a weary breath as the mingled cries of joy and relief began to fill the night around her.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was un-beta'ed so I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar errors. I've found someone for the next chapter though! :D

Also, I promise future chapters will have way more dialogue.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Big thank you to Zant (and his minions) for beta'ing this chapter for me.

* * *

The war was over. The galaxy was safe. They had, against all odds, defeated the Reapers.

News slowed to a trickle due to the loss of major communication hubs, but this much everyone knew: The crucible had worked, and Shepard had been the one to activate the weapon.

The status or whereabouts of the commander, however, was something no one could confirm. There were many conflicting reports. Some claimed that their hero was dead, that she had perished in the blast that had decimated the Reapers. Other reports held more hope and mentioned search and rescue parties had been deployed to look for her.

Samara had automatically begun traveling in a southeasterly direction, drawn to London as though some magnet was pulling her in. She only stopped occasionally to ensure that the survivors she came across were safe before she continued on.

She doubted that Shepard was dead, of course. Samara had witnessed first-hand the way Shepard was able to defy death and achieve the seemingly impossible. Still, she could not help the small knot of fear sitting coldly in her gut. Unaccustomed to the feeling, she tried to swat it away, and then internally chastised herself for having grown so attached to the young human. The feelings could not be helped, however. They had developed a 'connection' as Shepard had called it.

She had gotten to know the commander over the course of several months as they tracked the Collectors throughout the galaxy. She had been impressed by the way Shepard had comported herself; Shepard always did her best to help everyone regardless of their circumstances. Just or unjust, deserving or undeserving, human or alien—the commander did not discriminate. It had been humbling to watch someone so selfless in action.

Shepard had been an incredible warrior as well; she displayed skills that rivaled some of the greatest soldiers and tacticians in history. No one had believed it would be possible to enter the Omega 4 Relay, invade the Collector's home base, destroy it, and return to the world of the living. Yet, Shepard had led her team through it without a single casualty.

Perhaps most important of all, and the thing that made the commander truly unique to Samara, was the fact that Shepard had been her first friend and confidante in over 400 years.

Samara had been slightly surprised in the beginning when Shepard had joined her in her meditations, sitting quietly for hours on end while gazing into the great sea of stars. They had quickly developed a comfortable routine; Shepard would often stop by after missions to unwind. Shepard, she had surmised, felt the same weight of duty and had the same need to center herself.

They were kindred spirits.

This was why Samara had approached Shepard for help when traces of her fugitive daughter resurfaced. She had not believed she would ever entrust her lifelong burden to another, but Shepard had a way of shattering all preconceived notions.

Shepard had, of course, readily agreed to assist. She'd thrown herself headlong into the mission and had risked her entire being just to help. It was—in no small part—due to Shepard that Samara had found closure after so many years of tireless pursuit.

Then, there was their almost shared kiss aboard the Starboard Observation Lounge.

She'd been startled by Shepard's admission of feelings and had been even more surprised at the strength of the feelings she felt in return. Never could she have imagined that one so young could touch her, after so many centuries, and it had taken every last bit of Samara's willpower to hold her ground.

Samara was bound by the Code. While the Code did not expressly forbid romantic involvements, Samara did not see how a relationship could be possible. The Code was deeper and stronger than any feelings and she had no desire to encounter a situation where she would have to choose between it or love. So, she had gently turned Shepard away.

Despite being told that things could never work out between them, Shepard had aided Samara again, showing up with uncanny timing during one of Samara's most desperate situations.

The Ardat-Yakshi monastery on Lessus had been under attack by Reaper forces. Most of the asari commandos sent to deal with the crisis had perished under the onslaught and the majority of the Ardat-Yakshi had been captured. Samara was alone in enemy territory, with her two daughters hanging in the balance, when Shepard had appeared. If Samara had allowed herself to finish her thought at the time, she would have believed that Shepard had been sent by the Goddess herself.

With Shepard's assistance, Samara had been able to rescue Falere, her youngest. While she had lost her other daughter, Rila, to the attack, she could at least look back on her eldest's final moments with pride.

In the aftermath, Shepard had helped her once more. Caught up in the emotion of losing another child and faced with the demand of killing her only remaining one, she'd almost done something truly foolish. Thanks to Shepard's quick reaction and Falere's clear thinking, they were able to satisfy the Code through a technicality and had managed to resolve the situation without further bloodshed. It was the best that could have been made of the deplorable situation, and she owed it all to Shepard.

And now, Shepard was lost. Her status and location were unknown. Samara knew it was unseemly for a justicar to dwell so much on another, but for once, she found her restraint lacking. She _had_ to find the commander again.

The sound of an armored truck pulling up beside her pulled her out of her reverie.

"Are you injured?" An alliance soldier called down to her.

"No, I am well," she replied.

"We're heading to a base in Oxford. Do you need a lift?"

Samara contemplated for a second. She had rested for a few hours immediately after the battle and then had set out with the first rays of sunlight on foot. She'd been walking and picking her way through rubble for the better part of the day. Judging by the position of the sun, it was late afternoon and nightfall would be descending soon. While she normally would have declined the offer and traveled at her own pace, this time, she was anxious to reach London.

She nodded her thanks and moved to board the truck. As she climbed into the small passenger cabin, she saw several soldiers scattered about. Most were seated except for one in a medic uniform. He was tending to a couple of wounded civilians on the floor. Despite the obvious relief on everyone's face, a somber mood hung in the air. The elation from defeating the Reapers had worn off and the reality of the horrors they'd witnessed were finally sinking in.

Taking a seat opposite a pair of privates in the middle of a conversation, she felt the large vehicle lurched into motion once more.

"-Anderson too, from what I've heard," a young man who barely looked of age said softly.

"Really? They found him?" his companion, a blonde soldier, asked.

The young man nodded solemnly. "KIA."

"Damn it. So much loss," the blonde soldier said with a grimace. "But I guess it could have been much worse. Still no sign of Commander Shepard?"

"Not that I've heard. They've found Admiral Anderson though so the commander shouldn't be far behind. I just hope she's still alive."

* * *

Samara sat alone at the back of the Alliance shelter at Oxford and was finishing the last bites of her MRE ration when she felt the air change. The soldiers near the entrance began to talk in excited tones. She could feel the energy travel like a palpable form across the room towards her.

"-In critical condition," she caught someone say.

"They've really found Commander Shepard?" a voice nearby called out.

"Yeah! Though it's rumored she's barely hanging on," a soldier at the front shouted back.

Samara looked up, her unflappably serene eyes did not betray the sudden surge of emotion underneath. She rose and neatly disposed of her MRE tray before she headed outside into the still night air.

There was a truck that was scheduled to leave for London in the morning. Despite wanting to move immediately, Samara realized the truck would travel the fifty plus miles to London and arrive there before she could on foot—even if she was to start the trek now.

No, it was logical to wait and get some rest.

Sensing that sleep would not come easy to her that night, she set off in search of a quiet spot to meditate.

* * *

Samara stood outside the secured Alliance base in the heart of London and observed the two human guards stationed further up the path. It was morning and she had arrived in the city via transport moments earlier. She carefully considered her options. She was sure she would find Shepard—or someone with the knowledge of how to locate Shepard—somewhere beyond. She could take the most direct approach and simply walk up, but, if the guards attempted to prevent her from entering, she would be forced to act. Based on the Code, no one could obstruct a justicar.

She was not in asari space, however, and she doubted that the human guards had heard of a justicar, much less knew of the strict code that she was sworn to follow. She had no desire to kill the two of them, nor did she want to start a cross-species incident on the heels of so much bloodshed.

She could turn around and seek another way. She would be delayed but-

"Justicar Samara!" A deep, gravelly voice bellowed.

Samara turned and saw a mountainous form approaching her. The krogan was clearly a youngling—his skull crest had not yet hardened to form a cohesive plate. Despite his young age, raw strength and power emanated from him. As he drew nearer, Samara spotted a pair of startling blue eyes and a swath of fresh scars along the side of his back hump.

"Grunt," she said, a smile touching her lips. "It is good to see you alive."

"Heh heh. Same to you," he replied. "Are you looking for Shepard?"

Samara nodded and Grunt gestured for her to follow. Krogans, it seemed, had full access to the secure Alliance military zone. As they approached the entrance, the two guards blinked, saluted and took a step back to give the large krogan a wider berth.

"Jack and Kasumi have already been by," Grunt said. "Miranda arrived in the middle of the night and headed straight for the operating room. I thought she was going to rip apart the Alliance soldiers when they tried to stop her."

"I suppose her previous connection to Cerberus was a concern," Samara noted.

"Aye, though they quickly wised up. Would have been more fun if they hadn't. Heh heh heh."

Samara wrestled between the desire to lecture Grunt on the virtues of peace and her need for information on Shepard. Her concern for the commander won out. "Is Shepard severely injured?" she asked.

"I didn't get to see her. From what I've heard... well, it's not good. But Miranda is on the job now. If anyone can fix Shepard, it's her. And Shepard won't die. She's too stubborn. She'll look death in the eye, laugh in its pyjak face—again—and come right back to us. You watch." Grunt grinned confidently and pounded his fist into his hand.

Samara nodded and smiled. Grunt's bravado brought back memories of their time spent together. The krogan was juvenile, brash, and enjoyed violence a bit too much, but the Code aside, Samara had grown quite fond of him. Shepard had often paired them up in battle; undoubtedly hoping that the matriarch's composed demeanor would rub off on the boy.

Grunt led Samara deeper and deeper into the compound. Occasionally, they passed by security checkpoints where Alliance personnel would see them, salute respectfully, and let them pass by unhindered. Samara glanced at Grunt's broad profile and wondered just how much of a name her young friend had made for himself. She thought back to his rite of passage on Tuchanka and felt a hint of pride at the powerful warrior he had become.

Several minutes later, he entered a busy medical building and she swiftly followed. The injured and dying covered almost every inch of space and the cloying smell of antiseptic permeated the air. Several doctors, a few soldiers and a handful of civilians were picking their way through the packed hall. As they rounded several corners into a much quieter corridor, she spotted another krogan pacing restlessly in front of a sealed door. He was larger than Grunt, an impressive array of scars lined his battle-worn face, and he carried himself with an air that spoke of experience and authority.

"Wrex," Grunt called. "You remember Justicar Samara. She's here to see Shepard."

Samara inclined her head in greeting as Wrex mirrored the motion.

"Any updates?" Grunt asked.

"No," Wrex replied. "I don't like it. It's been almost a full day but no one has come out yet and the only person who's gone in is Lawson." He huffed then turned and glanced at Grunt. "Any trouble with the company?"

"They've settled into the camp and the turians have sent some extra supplies over," the younger krogan reported.

"No doubt Garrus's influence." Wrex let out an uncharacteristic sigh. "I do hope he's all right."

"Did something happen to Garrus?" Samara asked, a slight note of concern crossing her normally placid features.

"The Normandy and her crew... have not been located yet," Wrex replied. "They were to meet Sword at the rendezvous point when the Crucible fired. But with most communications out, the relays damaged and most of our technology malfunctioning, no one really knows where they are."

"If the blast was designed to take out advanced technology, then EDI..." Samara trailed off as the door to the operating room suddenly hissed open with a _whoosh_.

Miranda strode out first, followed by several doctors who all nodded curtly before moving down the hall to help other patients. As Miranda approached their party, it was clear that she had seen better days. Exhaustion lined her face, causing her to look several years older. One of her sleeves was torn and a freshly sealed wound was visible underneath. Splotches of dried blood were splattered on her clothing as though an artist had taken a brush and flicked it at her. Yet, she still managed to exude an aura of poise and confidence.

"Miranda! How is she?" Grunt asked.

"We've successfully removed all of the shrapnel, isolated her vitals and stabilized her into a medically induced coma to reduce the stress on her systems," the Australian said without preamble.

"So she'll make it okay?"

"No promises," Miranda replied. "Most of the synthetic parts used to rebuild her stopped functioning. We had fail-safes in place, of course, and those correctly diverted all oxygen and blood to her heart and brain. Everything else can be fixed or replaced but with the majority of our medical technology not working..." She brought a hand to her forehead and sighed. "Admiral Hackett better be ready to pull some strings.

"At any rate, she won't be waking up any time soon. Go get some rest. I think we've all earned it."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: In the months following the ME3 ending debacle, I read many fanfics in an attempt to sort through my own headcanon. I'm positive I unconsciously incorporated some of the better ideas into my own head. There's one scene (two lines in particular) that I *know* inspired me and progressed my Shep/Samara headcanon along: the hospital scene in Cybertronic Purgatory's "For What Binds Us". I've already gotten the author's permission to write a variation of it in my own story but I highly recommend reading "For What Binds Us" if you haven't! In fact, I highly recommend all the stories in my favorites list. :)

* * *

Samara stood by the large window and gazed at the rebuilding efforts beyond. It was a view she'd grown accustomed to seeing; almost three months having passed since the Final Battle.

At first, the land had been severely scarred. Collapsed buildings and charred metal had littered the broken streets for as far as her eyes could see. She'd watched as clean-up crews moved to and fro, clearing out all the debris as the weeks passed. Now the land was clear and orderly, like freshly tilled fields. Grass and other vegetation were beginning to take root again but the absence of buildings left an empty quality to the air.

The rebuilding efforts had not truly begun since most of the resources and man-power were being directed towards fixing the Sol Relay. While a lot of progress had been made in a very short period, the technology was beyond their time and the scientists working on the project could not accurately predict when the relay would be fully operational again.

Time was against them.

The armies of all the different species who had taken part in the Final Battle were still stuck in the system. They had enough supplies and food reserves to last nearly a year, but after that, finding dextro-based nutrients for the Turians and Quarians would be a real problem.

Samara had originally felt very out-of-place. Like an old, broken relic living too far past her time. She was on an alien world, following a Code that had no place in its society. Truth be told, she had never planned to survive the Reaper war. She had fully expected to die in battle; to lay down her life for a last great cause.

Now, unexpectedly faced with the rest of her life, she almost didn't know where to begin. Morinth, her purpose for the past half a millennium, was gone; the Reapers were destroyed; and her order, small to begin with, was all but extinct. As hard as she normally strove to _be_ empty, for the first time in a long time, she truly _felt_ empty.

She heard a small beep and a rush of air as the door to the room slid open.

"How is she?" Miranda asked as she strode in.

"Unchanged," Samara replied.

Miranda moved over to the center of the room where Shepard was laying on a bed amidst a sea of expensive looking medical equipment.

"All of her vitals are still stable," she said as she scanned through the readouts. "It's been almost a week since we stopped administering the anesthetics. I really thought she'd be awake by now." She let out a frustrated sigh. "There's nothing else _I can do for her_."

Hearing the desperate tinge in the human's last sentence, Samara turned to regard Miranda. "You've done more than could be expected of anyone. Shepard will wake when she is ready."

Samara's gaze fell to the commander's face. Shepard had received many medical operations in the weeks following the Final Battle. They'd cut her open so many times and replaced so many parts that she'd practically been rebuilt again. Through it all, they'd kept her in some sort of hibernation stasis to preserve core vital functions. A week ago, Miranda and the doctors had deemed her well enough to be brought out of it. They had expected the commander to come to shortly after, but nothing had happened yet.

The Australian sighed again. "I better get back to the lab. I only snuck out during a break. Admiral Hackett is reassigning a couple more of the technicians to the Relay Project and we were already short-staffed to begin with. Let me know as soon as anything changes?"

"Of course," Samara replied.

Miranda gave one last backward glance before she stepped out of the room.

Samara's eyes softened as she refocused her attention on Shepard. The bruises and cuts on her face had almost completely healed. The skin grafts they'd applied to badly burned areas were practically imperceptible. Gauntness hung to the commander's cheeks and frame—the only thing revealing the fact that she'd been surviving on IV nutrients for more than ten weeks.

Samara was about to turn and retake her place by the window when Shepard's eyelashes flickered. Samara froze, her eyes wide. She watched as Shepard's breathing began to change.

Stepping forward, she stared down at the commander. "Shepard."

Shepard's eyes fluttered partly open, her gaze foggy and unfocused.

"Shepard," Samara repeated more firmly.

"S-Samara..." Shepard's voice was barely audible.

"I am here, Shepard. Hang on. I am getting the doctors."

* * *

By the time the doctors arrived, Shepard had lost consciousness again. Samara stood outside, waiting as Miranda and the medical team ran full diagnostics.

The sound of loud footsteps pounded through the hall and Samara looked up to see Grunt approaching.

"I came as fast as I could. How is she?" he asked.

"She woke up briefly," Samara replied. "The doctors are tending to her now."

"HAH! I knew she'd come around! I've sent messages to Wrex and Kasumi. They're over at the Relay Project so it might take them a bit to get here but Jack should be here soon. She was in the Alliance camp next door."

"Jack is here now," the ex-convict interjected as she strolled around the corner and into view. She stopped a few yards short of the group and tilted her head at the locked door. "She okay?"

Grunt laughed, as though the notion of Shepard being not-okay was completely absurd. "Of course she's okay. She's Shepard!"

A lopsided smirk appeared on Jack's face. "Yeah, the Queen of the Girl Scouts wouldn't abandon her subjects now, would she?"

The sound of the door opening ended their conversation. All three turned to face Miranda as she exited. Frustration was evident on her face.

"Well?" Jack asked.

"Well," Miranda said, raising an affronted eyebrow at Jack's typical brusqueness. "She's out again. She regained consciousness during our scans but only momentarily."

"And? Did she say anything?" Grunt asked.

Miranda paused, as though contemplating how to answer, before looking at Samara.

"She said your name."

* * *

_Shepard was crammed into a dark and enclosed space. Her mother looked in from the entrance of the storm shelter, one hand hanging to the heavy door._

"_I'm going to help your father," her mother said._

"_I'm coming with you," Shepard replied._

"_No! No matter what happens, I want you to stay in here."_

"_What! There's no way I'm letting you go out there alone!"_

"_Honey, listen to me. I need you to stay in here. We don't know what's going on but it doesn't sound good. I need to know you're safe."_

"_Stop treating me like a kid, mom. I'm 16!"_

"_You may not be a kid anymore but you will always be my child and it's my job to protect you. Please. Please. Just listen to me this once. No—Do not argue! Promise me you will stay in here. Promise me you won't do anything brash. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, promise me you will stay hidden. If anything happens to me or your dad... just... please. I need to know you are safe._

"_Promise me you'll stay safe."_

* * *

Shepard could hear indistinct sounds as she floated in the half-world between wakefulness and sleep. Slowly, she made out the low whir of machinery and the regular _beep-beep-beep_ of a heart monitor. She tried to move her fingers and felt them respond; they brushed lightly against soft linen. She opened her eyes but immediately slammed them shut again as blinding light invaded her pupils. Cautiously, she tried again, cracking them open a fraction at a time and blinking rapidly as she tried to adjust to the brightness.

Her head felt incredibly heavy and lined with cobwebs. For a minute, she did not know where she was or what had happened. Then, it slowly came back to her.

The ghostly child AI.

The options.

Her decision.

Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath. Had all of that really happened? Thoughts, dreams and memories felt tangled together like a messy ball of twine. She could hardly sort one out from the other.

Sluggishly, her last waking thoughts began to replay in her mind.

Majestically regal features and impossibly striking pale-blue eyes filled her vision.

_In another time... another life._

"Shepard."

The voice was one she often heard in her head. A silky, calming melody that was soothing, like a balm.

"Shepard," the voice repeated.

"Samara..." Shepard whispered, her arm reaching out.

She felt gentle fingers encircle her hand.

"I am here, Shepard."

"Samara..." Shepard tightened her grip as though afraid the contact would suddenly disappear. "Is it another life yet, Samara?"

A pause.

"It is another time," Samara finally conceded. "Hang on, Shepard. I need to get Miranda."

Shepard's fingers extended in silent protest as she felt the hand slip from her grasp.

* * *

Miranda walked towards the side of Shepard's bed and glanced through a couple of readouts before she leaned forward and shone a light into Shepard's pupils.

"How are you feeling?" Miranda asked, leaning back and crossing her arms.

The spectre blinked several times. "Like I was hit by a shuttle."

"More like a space station, but close enough." Miranda smiled. "You had me worried, Commander."

"It's a talent," Shepard mumbled, a weary grin touching her face. "Was Samara here?"

"I am here," the justicar replied.

Lifting one eyebrow slightly, Miranda watched as Samara approached the other side of the bed and took Shepard's outstretched hand in her own. A languid smile overtook Shepard's face and she seemed to settle deeper into the pillow. After a moment, she turned to the Australian.

"Did we win?"

"Yes, thanks to you," Miranda replied.

"Did we lose anyone? The crew. Where's the crew?"

Miranda chose her words carefully. "The Normandy's whereabouts are still unknown."

"Unknown?"

"The Normandy was last recorded making a jump near Mars. The mass relays have stopped functioning and most of our systems are offline so there's no way to pinpoint their current location." At the alarm that spread across the commander's face, Miranda quickly added, "I'm sure they're all right, Shepard. They've probably encountered some technical difficulty and are trying to make their way back. They just haven't been able to report in due to communications being down."

Shepard stared at the ceiling, her eyes distant and haunted. There was also a touch of something else that Miranda tried to make out. Was it... guilt?

"The geth. What happened to the geth?" Shepard asked suddenly.

Slightly surprised by the question, Miranda replied, "They've... gone offline. The blast that erupted from the Citadel appears to have caused all advanced technology to stop functioning."

Shepard closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Miranda glanced at Samara, who gazed back with a somber expression.

"What happened, Shepard?" Miranda asked tentatively.

Shepard reopened her eyes but continued to stare into nothing. "Admiral Hackett. He should hear this too," she said.

"Yes, he wanted me to notify him as soon as you were fully conscious. I'll go contact him now."

* * *

As Miranda left the room, Shepard attempted to sit upright. Samara gently stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. She reached down to help incline the bed instead and then leaned over to reposition the pillow behind Shepard to ensure the commander was comfortable.

Shepard nodded her thanks.

"How long was I out?"

"It's been nearly three months since the battle ended."

Shepard let out a quick rush of air, her mind still struggling to wrap around the situation. After a moment, she looked down at her hand, still holding onto one of Samara's.

"You came for me," she said, more of a statement than a question.

"I promised I would."

"Have you been by my side this entire time?"

"Yes. Admiral Hackett tasked me with guarding you here in the hospital."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome. It... gave me something useful to do."

Sensing something embedded in those words, Shepard searched Samara's face. Samara's eyes met hers and they held the gaze, unspoken words filling the space between them.

The door whooshed open once more and Miranda's voice drifted in before she actually appeared.

"Hackett is on his way and should be here soon. I notified Grunt, Wrex, Kasumi and Jack as well. They've been constant visitors and will no doubt want to see you now that you're awake." Miranda paused mid-stride as she entered the room and caught sight of the commander and the justicar frozen in what looked like a staring contest. "I'll wait outside."

"No," Samara said as she blinked and released Shepard's hand. "I will go get the commander some water."

She moved to pick up the jug on the bedside stand before she strode past Miranda and disappeared into the corridor.

Shepard's eyes followed her the entire way.

Miranda cleared her throat and Shepard refocused on her, finding a strange smile on the operative's face.

"I must say, Shepard. You must really like impossible challenges."

* * *

Admiral Hackett's expression was solemn as he stood by the foot of the bed and listened to Shepard's detailed report of the events on the Citadel.

He was not surprised to hear that the Illusive Man had been there or that he had been indoctrinated by the Reapers. They'd found his twisted corpse near Admiral Anderson's body. He was, however, amazed to hear that the Illusive Man had managed to break free in the end, choosing to end his own life in order to sever the mind control. Whatever atrocities the enigmatic figure was guilty of, however wrong or misguided he had been, perhaps he really did have humanity's best interest at heart. Hackett felt a small amount of pity for the man.

Shepard's eyes had turned glossy and she had been brief when she recounted her last moments with Anderson. Hackett told her a huge service had been held in Anderson's honor and that he had been posthumously awarded the Star of Terra, the Medal of Honor, the Purple Heart, and a heap of other awards. Shepard had nodded wordlessly before continuing with her report.

The revelation of the AI who had been responsible for _everything_ took everyone in the room by surprise. Miranda and Samara's expressions turned contemplative while Grunt and Jack—who had arrived slightly before Hackett—wore expressions of stunned bewilderment.

As Shepard finished telling them about the difficult choices she had been presented with and the controversial decision she had made, Hackett nodded once and said, "I believe you made the best choice possible, Commander."

The look on Shepard's face clearly showed she did not feel the same way, though she said nothing.

"You do not believe you made the right choice?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly as her brows furrowed. "I... I don't know, sir. I committed mass genocide. The geth, EDI—heck, the Normandy is currently still lost because of me."

"And the rest of the galaxy is alive because of you," Hackett said almost affectionately. "Shepard, you united all of the races. Against all odds and in the face of the greatest threat any of us have ever known, you led us to victory. The war is over. Yes, you were forced to make a terrible decision, but one that _had_ to be made. There is no doubt in my mind that the alternatives would have been far worse. Control? Synthesis?" Hackett shook his head. "When we set out in this war, we set out to defeat the Reapers and _that's_ what you've helped us achieve. Yes, we've suffered great losses. Yes, the relays and our technologies will need to be rebuilt, but thanks to your actions, we now have the time to rebuild."

Shepard bowed her head, clearly humbled by his words.

Hackett's eyes softened. "You've done well, soldier," he said as he saluted.

Immediately, Shepard snapped to attention and saluted back. "Thank you, sir!"

A small smile crossed the Admiral's stern face. "Now hurry up and get better. I believe we have plenty of medals waiting for you too."

* * *

Wrex and Kasumi arrived shortly after Hackett's departure and joined Grunt, Jack and Miranda around Shepard's bedside. Samara stood near the window and observed as Kasumi, sporting a smile that could not be hidden underneath her hood, carefully gave Shepard a warm hug. Wrex, who was also grinning widely, exclaimed that he knew the Reapers were no match for the commander.

As Shepard began conversing and laughing with the krogan and the thief, the weariness seemed to fade from her eyes. Samara couldn't help but smile fondly as she regarded the people before her.

Her friends.

It was funny how things worked. She had thought she'd severed the bonds of kinship and camaraderie long ago. She could never have believed that, here, at the twilight of her thousand years, a youngling of barely thirty would rekindle _everything_.

Sensing the dangerous direction of her thoughts, she brushed them aside and reimmersed herself within the five thousand sutras of the Code.

* * *

By the time the conversations ended and the room finally cleared, it was nearly an hour later. Still weak and recovering, Shepard's eyes were beginning to droop.

"Shepard, before you rest," Samara said. "I have a request."

Shepard's gaze met hers. "Anything."

"You should not be so quick to make promises," Samara admonished lightly. "What if I had requested something you could not do?"

"I trust you, Samara," Shepard said simply.

"You honor me." Samara bowed her head. "My request is that I be bound to you through the Third Oath of Subsumation once more, until the mass relays are fixed and I am able to return to Asari space."

"You want to swear into service? Even though we're not currently on a mission?"

"I believe that our current attempts to liberate every species trapped in the Sol sytem would count as a worthy objective," Samara said. She paused for a second before continuing. "Admiral Hackett tasked me with guarding you but I have no doubt it was also to keep me separated from the rest of the populace. The Code was not written with humans or peace in mind, Shepard, and I find that I am out of my element here."

"Then I'd be honored."

Samara's eyes glowed white as she dropped to one knee. "By the Code, I will serve you. Your choices are my choices, your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my code." As she finished, her biotics flared for a brief second.

"And if I make you do anything extremely dishonorable, you'll have to kill me when you are released from the oath," Shepard said with a grin as the words once spoken to her on Illium replayed in her mind.

"That is correct, Commander," Samara said as she straightened and returned the smile. "Though I think you are quite safe."

* * *

A/N: Thanks again to Zant and his minions for the extremely helpful beta work!

Also, thanks to the people who've been reviewing/leaving feedback and/or adding my story to their lists. It's _very_ humbling and encouraging for a newbie like me to know that there are people who are enjoying the story. :D


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: There is a minor scene from the Citadel DLC in this chapter (pertaining to EDI). If you care about spoilers, I recommend playing the DLC first.

Thanks again to the remarkable Zant (plus minions) for beta'ing.

Oh, and "weaselly-sabotaging-traitor-bastard" is Wilson, in case anyone wonders. Though my beta doesn't believe anyone will remember who Wilson is anyway. :P

* * *

Shepard felt restless.

It had been several days since she'd regained consciousness and thanks to a few solid meals plus the medical team's impeccable care, a lot of her old vigor had returned. She knew she would need strength training and physical conditioning to rebuild some of the muscle mass she'd lost while in her coma; she was anxious to get started.

Miranda insisted on keeping her confined to her bed while she recovered, however. Something about there being no army of hacked mechs, no weaselly-sabotaging-traitor-bastard, no hundreds of thousands of helpless colonists, nor the imminent threat of galactic extinction to interrupt her healing process this time around.

Shepard shook her head and smiled. Miranda was a good friend. She owed the Australian for putting her life back together. Twice.

As her thoughts continued to hover on the topic of her friends, her eyes traveled to the chain laying on the stand beside her bed. Attached to it were her dog tags. Any military personnel could speak of the significance of the tags—they were a representation of the soldier, essentially an extension of themselves. But her eyes were focused on something else on the chain that meant more to her than the tags: a ring.

A ring that a friend had once given to her to symbolize hope.

* * *

_Shepard stared at the beautiful gem-encrusted band in EDI's extended hand._

"_Uh... are we getting married?" Shepard asked, smirking._

"_No," EDI replied obliviously, causing Shepard's smile to grow wider. "There is a jeweler on the Citadel who produces these. They're made from metals from each Council homeworld. Each metal compounds with the last, making the ring stronger. He calls them victory rings. Due to material shortages, only a few exist."_

"_That's thoughtful, EDI, but we're not supposed to wear fancy jewelry with the uniform."_

"_Some soldiers put rings on the chain of their identification tags."_

"_I can do that. One condition, though: I'll give it back to you when we win."_

"_No, that seems inappropriate. It doesn't solely represent my hope; it's that of many different planets. It should stay with you."_

"_I'll take that to heart. Thanks, EDI."_

* * *

"I took it to heart." Shepard whispered, closing her eyes. "We won, EDI."

A flood of sadness, guilt, anger, pain and helplessness crashed through her veins in a rush, like a pool of spilled ink seeping through parchment.

She'd been told that the ring was the reason she'd been found so quickly. As she had lain hurt, barely breathing, and clinging to her life beneath a pile of rubble in the ruins of the Citadel, the gemstone around her neck had caught the faint rays of light like a beacon. The reflected glimmers had drawn rescue workers to investigate. If it wasn't for EDI's gift, her charred body may not have been found in time.

Yet, EDI was dead—killed by a decision that _she_ had made, while _she_-

She fought with the dark emotions, unwilling to let them overtake her. Exerting all of her effort, she pushed them back and walled them tightly within the recesses of her mind.

Shaking her head in an attempt to clear her troubled thoughts, she sat up and shifted her legs off the bed.

Hearing the rustle of the sheets, Samara, holding her usual vigil by the window, turned with a slight frown to gaze at Shepard.

"The doctors have not cleared you for movement," she stated calmly.

"I'm going crazy just laying here, Samara. I want to stretch my legs a little. Maybe see what's so compelling outside that window."

She wobbled a bit as she tried to stand up; her legs were not accustomed to her weight yet. Samara made it to her side in three long strides. Winding an arm around Shepard's waist, she steadied her and lent her support.

"Thanks," Shepard said with a small smile as she felt both physically as well as emotionally buoyed. Wrapping her arm around Samara's shoulder, she leaned some of her weight into the asari. She savored the contact and the closeness as Samara helped her slowly make her way over to the window. As they arrived, Samara made sure Shepard had her balance and then released her.

They stood side by side as Shepard gazed through the big picture window and took in the scene below. Drawing in a deep breath, she felt her spirit clear.

"You are stronger than the storm that swells inside you."

Startled, Shepard glanced at her companion only to realize that she shouldn't have been surprised by the matriarch's astute perception. She nodded once and attempted to change the topic, eager to stay away from dark thoughts.

"It's cleaner than I remember," she said lightly.

"Most of the rebuilding efforts are centered elsewhere, closer to downtown," Samara replied.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they watched small groups of people moving around, attempting to rebuild the pieces of their lives.

After several minutes, Samara reached over to offer her support again. "Now come, you have seen the view. You should not be standing this long." She tugged at the commander's side.

A grin broke out on Shepard's face and she allowed herself to be steered back towards the bed. "Your maternal instincts are still intact, I see," she said in amusement.

A barely perceptible knit appeared on Samara's brow. "I do not think of you as a daughter."

"Good," Shepard said as she sat down on the bed. "Because I do not think of you as a mother." She gave Samara a pointed look.

As their eyes met, she felt of surge of electricity spark in the air between them. Then, Samara lowered her eyes and stepped back a pace. Shepard felt a sore stab of disappointment and was about to speak when a _beep_ and a rush of air interrupted her.

"Shepard," Miranda said, striding into the room and displaying an unusual amount of emotion. Shepard could not recall the last time she'd seen her former XO look so excited and the brief irritation that had flared at the poor timing was immediately forgotten.

"I've got a surprise for you," Miranda continued. She gestured to the hover chair she was pushing in front of her. "Get in."

* * *

"Shepard!"

Shepard's eyes grew large as Miranda guided her hover chair into an enormous indoor hangar bay. In front of her sat the Normandy SR-2 in all its glory.

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, Liara T'Soni and Garrus Vakarian were heading towards her, the former waving and calling out to the commander. Behind them, near the base of the ship, Shepard could see Ashley Williams, James Vega and Samantha Traynor saluting Admiral Hackett and the small contingent of Alliance soldiers around him. Javik lingered near the cargo hold where Steve Cortez and several other crew members were unloading some crates.

"Tali! Liara! Garrus!" Shepard laughed in disbelief. Her eyes suddenly felt heated.

Tali was the first to reach Shepard. She let out a happy shout as she emphatically drew the commander into a bone-crushing hug. She seemed to catch herself an instant later because she quickly let go.

"Sorry! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Just because Shepard is in a wheelchair doesn't mean she's gone soft, Tali," Garrus said as he walked up, his mandibles twitching.

Shepard beamed up at him. The two friends stared at each other for a second before they clasped hands and drew each other in for a clap on the back.

"Looks like we'll have to settle for a bar on Earth," Garrus said dryly.

Shepard barked out a laugh. "Only if you're buying, Vakarian."

Liara approached next and leaned in to give Shepard a tight yet gentle hug. "Shepard, I am so relieved that you are all right."

"Me? I'm just glad that _you guys_ are all right. I didn't know what to think when I woke up and no one could tell me where you were. What happened?"

"Long story," Garrus replied. "Though not nearly as long or fun as yours, I'm sure."

"What can I say, I'm a magnet for fun," Shepard murmured with a lopsided grin as she watched Tali, Liara and Garrus greet Samara and Miranda.

"So, you're all right... _Right_?" Garrus asked as he looked down and gestured at the chair.

"Shepard's reinforced spinal cord had to be... re-reinforced," Miranda interjected. "She'll be up and about in no time though. It seems nothing can keep our illustrious Commander Shepard down."

"Illustrious? Dammit, Skipper, you better not let all of this hero business go to your head," Ashley said with a huge smile as she approached the group. Vega followed closely behind, looking pleased yet unsurprised to find Shepard alive.

Ashley embraced Shepard in a tight hug and Shepard returned it, feeling a huge weight lift off her shoulders. Her crew was safe.

"Don't worry LC," she said, releasing Ashley. "I'm sure I'll have you around to bust my balls if I do."

"Damn right." Ashley grinned as she stepped aside.

Vega was next. He stooped down and gave Shepard a quick hug. "Good to see you in one piece, Lola."

"You too, James."

"So, what happened?" he asked. "I've been dying to know how you beat the Reapers. We were looking dead in the water for a while there, but you pulled it off. " He leaned back and crossed his arms, the motion causing his already prominent muscles to bulge even more.

"Later, I promise. After you've have had a chance to settle in. I'm sure you guys will be dragged into debriefing shortly."

"Yeah," Ashley answered with a scowl. "We're gonna be up to our ears in reports soon."

Shepard gave her a commiserating smile. Looking past her friends, the light mood faded from her face as she spotted Joker limping out of the cargo bay with Dr. Chakwas by his side.

Haggard was the only word Shepard could think of to describe his appearance. His eyes were slightly glazed and there was a hollow quality about them.

Another pang of guilt shot through her.

Following Shepard's line of vision, Liara explained. "EDI stopped functioning when we were rattled by a blast. Most of our technology stopped working, actually, which is why it took us so long to get back. Jeff... has not been taking it well."

Shepard nodded, a pained and knowing expression etched on her face. Pushing her chair forward, she broke away from her friends. As she pulled up beside Admiral Hackett and the Alliance soldiers, they saluted and she returned the salute.

"Shepard, I'm so happy to see you all in one piece," Dr. Chakwas said, approaching. Reaching down, she drew Shepard into a careful hug.

"I'm glad to see you too, Doc. It didn't feel right having other people touching my inner bits." The joke was halfhearted but she heard Chakwas chuckle; her attention was already on Joker, however. "Hey, Joker."

"Hey, Commander," Joker replied without his usual gusto. "Glad you're all right." He then turned towards Admiral Hackett. "Uh, if I'm not needed, Sir, I'll go fill out my report now."

Hackett nodded. "Dismissed, Flight Lieutenant."

Joker gave a weak salute and turned to limp back into the Normandy. Chakwas made a motion to stop him but Hackett waved her off. "He can fill out his report in there."

Shepard didn't know what to say as she watched Joker's retreating back. She could see the sadness written all over his posture and face.

_Sorry I killed your girlfriend? _Shepard's brows furrowed together. _Joker doesn't even know that I'm responsible for his pain_.

Clenching her jaw tightly, she tried to swallow the bad taste in her mouth.

* * *

"Hey," Shepard said as she lingered near the entrance of the Normandy's cockpit. "Mind if I join you?"

Joker's unfocused eyes turned from the screen he was clearly not seeing and refocused on her. "Uh, yeah, sure, Commander," he replied, straightening a little.

Shepard moved forward and stopped near Joker's seat. "I... I'm sorry about EDI."

"Yeah, me too," he said quietly. "They tried to fix her, you know... but she didn't come back online."

Shepard processed this information. She'd hoped that EDI or the geth could be repaired but if Tali and the engineers had already tried to fix EDI and it hadn't worked...

"It's all my fault," Shepard said, bowing her head.

"Your fault?" Joker asked, his gaze pinned on her. "What do you mean?"

Shepard took a deep breath. She'd never been a coward and she wasn't about to start now.

"The blast that deactivated EDI. That was my fault."

"Wait. Could you say that again? Cause I think I just heard you say you killed EDI."

"I did." Shepard lifted her head, automatically straightening into parade rest. "When I was on the Citadel, I came across three choices. I could choose to control the Reapers, I could synthesize all life with them to create some sort of organic-synthetic hybrid, or, I could destroy them," she stated without embellishment. "I chose destroy. Knowing full well that the blast would also knock out all advanced technology." Her voice dropped. "Knowing it meant that EDI and the geth would stop functioning." She looked directly into Joker's eyes, a haunted expression upon her face. "I am the reason EDI is gone."

Shepard half expected the pilot to yell at her, to blame her for her decision, but instead, he just sat there and stared at her. The silence bothered her more than an outburst would. The guilt tore at her insides until she could not stand it anymore.

"Look, Joker, I would understand if you hate me. I made the call. It's _my fault_ she's gone."

Joker continued to stare at her silently. Struggling not to fidget under the scrutiny, she tried to give him the time to work out his thoughts.

Finally, after a long minute, he spoke in a hushed voice.

"Why did you pick destroy, Shepard? Why didn't you pick control? Think of all the power you could have had."

"No single entity should have that much-"

"Synthesis then. Why didn't you combine us?" he asked, his voice gaining volume and accusation.

"Without everyone's consent? Eliminate our diversi-"

"Why did you have to pick destroy!" Joker yelled, a vein bulging on the side of his neck.

"Because it was the best choice!"

"_Exactly_," Joker said softly, all of the vitriol from a second ago completely gone.

"What?" Shepard stared at him, stunned.

"You made the right choice, Shepard. It sucks like_ crazy_ that EDI and the geth are gone, but even I can see that the alternatives didn't make sense." Joker shook his head sadly before looking at her with understanding in his eyes. "You gotta stop beating yourself up, Commander. I know what guilt does to a person. I lived with it for two years, remember?"

Shepard was vaguely aware that her mouth was gaped open.

"EDI wouldn't blame you, I think," Joker added, tears beginning to build in his eyes. He made no effort to hide them.

Shepard blinked, also feeling the heat behind hers. "It's all such bullshit, Joker."

He nodded in agreement, causing the pooled tears to spill down his cheeks. "Yeah."

"I swear I did everything I could. If there had been another way-"

"I know, Shepard. I'm sure EDI knows too. I think she would have understood."

Shepard's tears began to fall as well. It was the first time in a long time that she had cried in front of anyone; the last time had been at her parents' funeral when she was sixteen.

She finally allowed all of her feelings to break free. She'd been pushing herself so hard for the past few years, carried the burden of the galaxy for so long that she'd never truly given herself the chance to just breathe or mourn. She felt all of her pain and anger and sorrow spilling out. She cried for the decision she'd been forced to make; for the geth and EDI; for Anderson, Thane and Mordin; for Aratoht; for all of the fallen planets and destroyed homeworlds; and for _everyone_ who had lost someone or something because of the stupid war.

The pair sat there, quietly weeping, until all of their tears dried up and they could cry no more. Then, as their eyes met, they started to laugh. Shepard had no idea what was so funny but they continued to laugh, the sound resonating deeply within the cabin. She found the action to be healing.

As they sobered, Shepard removed the victory ring from the chain around her neck and held it out to Joker. "Here, EDI gave me this. You should have it."

"Thanks, but if EDI wanted you to have it, then it's yours."

"You sure? You don't want something to remember her by?"

"Positive. And I already have something to remember her by," he said, patting his chest. "Right here."

Shepard nodded slowly. As she took the victory ring and slipped it onto her right middle finger, she made a silent vow to _never_ forget her friend or the immense cost of the war.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you to Zant for the beta. :D

* * *

Sitting on the floor of a balcony which overlooked a bluff, Shepard stared out into the vast green canopy several hundred feet below her. The trees stretched endlessly for as far as her eyes could see while occasional wisps of white clouds drifted lazily by in the azure skies above. Warm sun shone on her face and a light but persistent breeze kept her feeling comfortable.

She had been transported to a remote Alliance outpost in the middle of South America and given her own quarters while she finished recuperating. Since she was all but fully healed, she surmised it was the Alliance's way of keeping her safe and distanced from the clamoring crowds who wanted a glimpse of their savior. It was, in all probability, also Hackett's way of giving her a 'much deserved vacation' before her official award ceremony. She was slated to receive a truckload of medals as well as a statue for her contributions in the war. Never one to covet attention, the idea that her likeness would be forever immortalized in bronze was one she still hadn't quite gotten used to.

In addition, the Alliance had offered her a promotion to Admiral—unheard of for someone her age. If she accepted, she would shatter the record by almost two decades.

Watching large white birds soaring freely over the forest, she sighed. This far removed from civilization, it was as though the war had never happened.

_Like it had all been a bad dream_.

"What is the cause of your unrest, Shepard?" Samara, who was meditating an arm's length away, asked.

"This," Shepard replied, gesturing at the scenery before her. "It's too idyllic. Too perfect. There are people out there right now who are still struggling to survive. All of our allies are still stuck here in this system. I wish I could help. And yet, there's nothing I can do."

Samara released the biotic energy between her hands and settled into a more relaxed position. Nodding understandingly, she said, "Immediately after the war, I felt the same frustrations you feel now."

Shepard turned and regarded Samara with mild surprise. She couldn't imagine the matriarch as anything but composed.

"It is not unusual for a warrior such as you and I to feel out-of-place during times of peace," Samara said.

"I just wish there was something I could do."

"As do I, but we have accomplished our task. It is now up to the scientists and engineers to do their part."

"I know. I just hate feeling useless—_helpless_. I swore to myself after my parents died for me that I would never again sit idly by while others are in danger."

"Your parents died for you?" Samara asked quietly.

Shepard shut her eyes and nodded. She hadn't spoken of her parents to anyone since her counseling sessions directly after being rescued from Mindoir. She'd certainly never spoken about the ordeal to anyone who wasn't a psychiatrist. It was a part of her that had haunted her for a long time and even though she'd eventually learned not to blame herself for her parents' death, it was hard to forget the feelings of powerlessness and guilt.

Opening her eyes, she slowly released a deep breath. "I grew up in a colony on Mindoir. It was a small but peaceful place. Lots of blue skies and green trees. Much like here," she said, motioning to the view before them. "When I was sixteen, batarians raided our colony. They killed or captured almost everyone. The only reason I survived was because my parents hid me fast enough. After we heard explosions in the distance, my dad asked my mom to get me into the storm shelter while he went to go check. Once my mom got me inside, she made me promise to stay put and then went to go look for dad.

"I never saw them again." Shepard turned to meet Samara's somber gaze. "I often wondered afterward if things would have turned out differently if I'd done something else. Anything other than sitting there. _Hiding_."

"Shepard," Samara said gently. "You were an untrained, unarmed child. If you had done anything else, you would have been killed."

"I know. I've reasoned that with myself many times. But it doesn't make it any easier to accept that I was helpless to stop my loved ones from being murdered." A determined look crossed over her face. "I vowed from then on that I would grow stronger. That I would make a difference and shield others from coming to harm or from experiencing the same pain I'd felt."

"And you have done a remarkable job of it. You rescued the galaxy from the Reapers, Shepard. Your parents would be proud to know that their offspring turned such a tragic event into a positive driving force. Your parents were heroes, and the galaxy owes them, as much as they owe you."

Samara reached over and gave Shepard's forearm a comforting squeeze. "This is different though. We have no tangible enemy. You have already done more than could be expected of anyone. The best you can do now is to finish healing and to rest your mind."

"You're right, of course." The corner of Shepard's mouth lifted slightly as she let the advice sink in. "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Samara straightened and resumed her meditation posture, signaling the end of the conversation. Shepard took a deep breath, emulated her pose, and settled into a quiet calm.

* * *

Shepard lunged at Samara and swung her right arm at the asari's head. Samara blocked the blow easily and then parried the follow-up jab before dodging gracefully away from a roundhouse kick.

"You always telegraph your intentions with your left foot," Samara said.

"My usual enemies aren't as observant as you though," Shepard retorted.

"True, but what if you were to encounter an enemy that was?"

"Then I'd have a gun."

The corners of Samara's mouth lifted slightly.

Being confined to the Alliance outpost, the pair had begun sparring regularly to keep sharp. Weight training and yoga simply weren't enough to satisfy Shepard's need for physical activity and Samara had been happy to oblige.

Mindful of the furniture, Shepard moved away from the walls and towards the center of the empty space they had created in the living area.

Mirroring Shepard's movement, Samara positioned herself just outside Shepard's reach and said, "Your attacks are powerful but meaningless if you cannot connect. Think less like a tomkah and more like a dancer."

"Have you seen me dance?"

Samara considered this question briefly.

"No, I do not believe so."

"Kasumi would tell you to thank your Goddess for that."

Samara looked amused but did not pursue the topic. Instead, she said, "Do not focus so much on the power behind your strikes. Find the center of balance within you and try to maintain that equilibrium without pushing too far in any direction."

After circling around Shepard for a moment, she deftly moved up and started unleashing a series of sharp jabs as though to demonstrate.

Shepard was no slouch when it came to hand-to-hand combat but asari martial arts was something else. The justicar's strikes were quick and precise—like a viper—and Shepard could barely keep up.

As she parried a blow that left Samara's front unguarded, her eyes were drawn to a flash of blue skin. In that split second of distraction, Samara completed a leg sweep and Shepard found herself looking up at the asari from her ass.

Shepard shook her head and smiled as she climbed back to her feet. There was no shame in being knocked down by someone who had hundreds of years of combat experience on her. She was aware that everyone had their strengths and weaknesses and that Samara excelled at short to medium range combat while she shone in mid to long range. Still, she was slightly embarrassed by the reason she'd been caught off guard.

"I've always wondered," she said as she resumed her fighting stance. "Do all justicars wear armor like yours?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, from your descriptions, justicars are a monastic order, right? I guess I've always been thrown off by your choice of attire. Human monks tend to wear stuff that's more... er... conservative."

The corners of Samara's lips lifted slightly and her eyes took on a mischievous glint. "I believe you have just demonstrated the reason for my armor."

Shepard felt a flush creeping up her neck but fought to keep her face composed.

"As you know, asari are much more comfortable in their sexuality than humans," Samara explained as she circled calmly around Shepard. "But to answer your question, justicars are willing to employ anything that will grant an advantage in combat. My sisters are no exception. In fact, I would say they make even better use of their _gifts_."

Shepard tried to ignore the image that had conjured in her mind and instead focus on the opponent who was still pacing around her like a panther stalking its prey.

Suddenly, without any warning, Samara lunged forward and slashed downwards at Shepard's shoulder. Shepard managed to dodge out of the way at the very last second, narrowly avoiding the blow. She quickly launched a counterattack, hoping to catch Samara off guard, but the seasoned warrior was ready for her. Samara easily sidestepped the commander's punch and simultaneously caught a hold of Shepard's wrist. Using the human's own forward momentum against her, Samara pulled, knocking Shepard off-balance, and then finished with a sweep of her foot.

As Shepard began to teeter over, her hand reflexively grabbed Samara's. Samara's eyes widened in surprise as their combined weight and force caused her to lose her footing as well.

Shepard hit the floor first, her shoulder and back absorbing the brunt of the impact. Realizing that she'd unintentionally dragged her partner down with her, she reached up, attempting to brace Samara's fall, and successfully caught her, cushioning her from the hard floor.

She laid there, with her back leveled against the cool stone ground, her hands on Samara's side, _very_ aware of the asari's body pressed tightly against hers.

In a blink, Samara was standing again. A moment later, she held out a hand to help Shepard up.

Shepard took the offered hand and rose.

"Sorry."

"No need to apologize," Samara said, moving back and resuming her fighting stance as though nothing had happened.

Shepard, on the other hand, could not quite forget the softness of Samara's body on top of hers.

_This is supposed to relieve tension, not build up another kind_. She could not help but smirk wryly. _I think I'm gonna need a cold shower._

Samara gave her no time for additional thoughts as she resumed her attack, quickly lashing out three times. Shepard managed to deflect the first two blows but only succeeded in partially parrying the third. She felt a small but sharp rap on her right shoulder.

"Do not simply react. Try to anticipate your opponent's actions."

Inhaling a deep breath, Shepard shook her head to clear her mind. Then, she focused on finding her balance and maintaining it. Having found her center, she dashed forward.

Samara blocked her first punch and Shepard quickly ducked her head to avoid the counter-blow. She threw a jab at the justicar's right shoulder, purposely leaving an opening to the left.

As Samara attempted to dodge the attack, Shepard intercepted and caught her wrist. She gently but firmly pinned the justicar's arm behind her. Holding on to her captive for a moment, Shepard enjoyed the small victory as well as the heat she could feel burning between them. Then, releasing Samara, she jumped back out of range.

She smirked wryly again.

_Yep, definitely going to need a cold shower after this_.

* * *

Shepard could not suppress the grin on her face. Exiting the kitchen, she set her plate down on the dining table and seated herself. A short moment later, Samara settled herself opposite of Shepard with a plate of her own.

It was evening and they were in the dining area nestled between the kitchen and the balcony. The sliding glass doors to the balcony were open and a soft breeze drifted in, offering a small measure of comfort in the otherwise humid air.

Shepard looked down.

The food on her plate resembled lasagna or some type of layered pasta. The sauce was white and it appeared to have something extra baked in... were those eggplants?

She looked up again and saw Samara gazing at her with a small, expectant smile.

"This is a traditional asari dish called basticscio. I did not have the exact ingredients, of course, but I substituted what I could with the most similar human equivalents."

"It smells delicious," Shepard said as she cut off a corner with her fork and brought it to her mouth. "Mmm, it tastes delicious too."

"I am glad you think so," Samara replied, visibly pleased. "Truth be told, this is the first time I have prepared an actual meal for anyone other than myself in several centuries. I was a little worried it would not be to your taste, however, I felt it was time I contributed to the cooking."

"I don't mind cooking," Shepard said between bites, "but this is so good I may let you cook everything from now on."

"As long as you do the washing."

Shepard barked out a laugh, faintly thrilled that Samara was bantering with her. "Deal," she said as she scooped another forkful of food into her grinning mouth.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt so content and _happy_.

She looked across the table at Samara, unable to stop from wondering just how long their blissful and isolated bubble would last.

Time had done nothing to temper her feelings for the asari and Shepard found herself just as hopelessly in love as she had been over a year ago, when they had been chasing the Collectors aboard the Normandy.

Shepard's attraction to Samara hadn't been instant. She'd started out seeking refuge in the Starboard Observation deck simply because of the peacefulness of the room. There was something cathartic about gazing out into the vast sea of stars.

Samara's preference for silence rather than inane chatter had given Shepard the chance to come to terms with everything that had weighed on her at the time. From the questions surrounding her rebirth, to the ghastliness of the Collector mission, to the horrors of the Reaper threat, the matriarch's silent companionship had done wonders for Shepard's psyche. The fact that the justicar understood the weight of duty and seemed to share the same goals and principles made Shepard feel completely at ease in her presence. While her spectre status often caused people to see stars, to Samara, she was just a fellow warrior. With Samara, she had found an equal. With Samara, all of the expectations that came with her rank melted away. With Samara, she could simply_ breathe_ and be herself.

It was during the mission on Omega to help find Morinth when Shepard realized she'd fallen for Samara. The feelings were unexpected and she'd been slightly blindsided by the depth of them.

Taking another bite of the basticscio, she glanced at her companion.

Despite being absolutely sure of the way she felt, she was hesitant to act. The one time she had pressed the issue aboard the Normandy, she had discomfited Samara so much that the asari had retreated. Shepard did not wish to have a repeat of that encounter, nor did she want to cause Samara any further distress. In fact, had Samara not expressed the reciprocation of feelings back then, Shepard would have done her best to move on long ago. Instead, the knowledge that Samara felt the same way but denied them the chance to see where things could lead, made it impossible for Shepard to forget her.

Yet, was there any way she could pursue the desires in her heart while simultaneously respect Samara's wishes? Shepard did not know. And so, she'd been waiting for a sign from the matriarch.

Shepard wasn't totally inexperienced when it came to romance. She'd dated a few people, had a couple of flings, even released some stress with the consort, but she'd never experienced emotions quite like the ones she felt for Samara. She didn't simply want a physical relationship. She wanted something more. Deep down, she realized what she _really_ desired was the promise of forever. The feelings were uncharted territory and they left her feeling both exhilarated and terrified at the same time.

She sighed internally. Why did love have to be so complicated? Throw her into a battlefield where it's her versus thousands of batarians trying to kill her and she liked her chances. Pit her against a monstrous synthetic foe the height of a skyscraper and she was confident she would find a way to take it down. But love? She may as well have been a drunken elcor attempting to do a pirouette.

Shepard could feel the pressure of time as well. Even though the period they'd been spending together on Earth had drawn them closer than ever before, she was fully aware that Samara would depart as soon as the relays were fixed. Feeling a stab of guilt, she began chastising herself as she had almost wished that the day wouldn't come.

_Of course I want the relays fixed_, she thought. _Our allies need to go home. As for Samara..._ Shepard sighed internally again. _I guess we'll just have to see_.

* * *

A/N: I've been trying to update at least once a week however I will be out of town all of the upcoming week. As long as I return from the Rockies with all limbs intact, I'll aim to have the next chapter ready around the 2nd weekend of April.

Thanks for reading! :)


	6. Chapter 6

"Ma'am!"

A muscular soldier in his late thirties stood near the entrance to Shepard's apartment and saluted.

Shepard, seated in front of a work station in the living area, glanced up.

"Sergeant," she said. "Heading out for the day?"

"Yes, ma'am. Team Foxtrot just arrived to relieve us. Here is our report from today."

"Anything I should be aware of?"

"No, ma'am."

"Thanks, Sarge. Dismissed."

The soldier saluted again before turning to leave.

Shepard opened the report and scanned through it. Being the highest ranking officer on site, all reports in the base went through her. Although she normally hated anything that resembled a desk job, she was grateful for them this time around as they gave her something useful to do.

Reaching the end of the document and seeing nothing worth noting, she leaned back and raised her arms into a long, lazy stretch. Late afternoon sunlight shone in from the large windows and bathed her in a soft, warm light. As she lowered her arms, she glanced out towards the balcony at Samara's meditating form. Her gaze lingered a moment as she reveled in the asari's presence—it was the only thing keeping her from going completely stir crazy. The simple sight of the justicar brought a type of contentment to her and she smiled slightly before returning her attention to the screen.

It had been more than two weeks since she'd arrived in South America and her inbox was the only source of contact with the outside world.

She felt _incredibly_ out-of-touch.

Once cleared to resume duty, most of the Normandy's crew had joined the Relay Project. The addition of people like Liara, Tali, Traynor and the Normandy's engineers had been a major boost to the project's overall talent and they'd been making major strides since.

Tali had kept the commander in the loop by sending frequent updates. According to the quarian, most of the relay's physical repairs had been completed and things were looking more and more promising with each passing day.

Shepard clicked on the latest message, received less than half an hour ago.

_Shepard,_

_I think we almost have it! Doctor Oduol is convinced that by increasing the auxiliary outburst in the quantum streams, the polarity time-matter field would help re-route the plasma from the eezo core directly into the—uh, sorry, tech talk. What I meant to say is, if this upcoming adjustment is __successful, we think the relay will work!_

_The scientists are preparing several test drones as I type this. The plan is to have a VI-piloted drone attempt the first jump. This could happen as early as tomorrow!_

_Keelah, Shepard. If this works... I will be able to see Rannoch again. I'm almost scared to dream._

_You may not have to go 'stir crazy' much longer!_

_-Tali_

Shepard blinked before reaching out to close the message. Part of her surged with relief and happiness that the nightmare was almost finally over. Her allies—her friends—would be able to return home soon. The disarray from not having functional mass relays would be fixed. They could _truly_ begin rebuilding the galaxy again.

Another part of her...

She gazed out towards the balcony once more and stared quietly, as though trying to commit the view to memory. After a moment, she stood up, headed outside and sat down next to the asari.

"Tali says that they might have it figured out. The mass relay could be functional soon."

Samara's biotic energy dissipated as she turned to regard Shepard. To anyone else, her expression would have appeared completely serene and stoic. Shepard, however, saw the conflict hidden deep in her eyes.

"Will you leave?" Shepard asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"Yes."

"To your daughter?"

Samara nodded. "It is my duty, both as a justicar and as a mother, to revisit the monastery."

Shepard took in a deep breath and gazed up towards the clear blue sky. The picturesque scenery contrasted sharply with the edginess brewing inside her. After a moment, she turned to Samara.

"I could go with you."

Samara was unable to hide her surprise and Shepard saw several emotions collide on her face before she managed to school her expression into a slight frown. Still, Shepard had seen the astonishment, hesitation, doubt, and _hope_.

At least, Shepard prayed it was hope. Summoning her courage, she pressed on.

"Samara, my feelings for you haven't changed."

Instantly, the justicar's posture stiffened and her frown deepened. "Shepard..."

Seeing the asari's body-language, Shepard's heart sank. She held up her hands in a placating gesture.

"Don't worry, I won't push the issue this time. I don't mean to upset you or make you run off again. I just want to let you know that regardless of what your answer is, this is how I feel."

"Shepard, I am incredibly flattered. But as I have told you before, a relationship between us is impossible."

"Why is it impossible? These past few weeks have given us a glimpse of our life together. And I've loved every moment of it."

"These past few weeks have been a dream. One that we will have to wake from soon. We both have duties that call to us."

Shepard shook her head. "And if I give up my duties?"

Samara's eyes widened before she lowered her gaze. "Would you really be able to step away from the people who need you?"

At the silence that followed, Samara looked up again. "Please, Shepard. Put the thought from your mind. If these are indeed our last days in each others company, let us not ruin them."

"Fine," Shepard said softly. As much as she wanted to rail and fight, she knew pressing the issue would get her nowhere.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened into a meditation posture and closed her eyes, struggling to calm the storm within.

* * *

Shepard sighed internally as she set the last of the plates into the cupboard. Lunch had been a strained and silent affair.

Three days had passed since her confession, part deux. Whether it was due to Shepard's disappointment, Samara's reticence, or just their shared restlessness at their impending separation, their time together had indeed been soured. Normally able to enjoy a peaceful quietness, the silence during the past few days had felt incredibly strained. A curtain of tension seemed to hang in the air between them, so thick Shepard felt like she couldn't breathe.

Glancing at Samara's back, the asari once more seated at the balcony, Shepard felt a stab of regret. Not regret that she had confessed her feelings—she would do that again if she had to do it over—but regret that things hadn't worked out and that their past few days had been marred.

Shepard wished there were missions to undertake, something—_anything_—to do.

The first time she'd been rejected on the Normandy, she'd been heartbroken but had managed to escape into her work. She had Collectors to stop and Reapers to kill. There was no time to dawdle on romance and she'd dove head first into her missions. This time, however...

Shepard sighed again.

She was about to go over to apologize—to try to set things right somehow—when all communications around her began to explode with activity. Her omni-tool buzzed with multiple incoming messages. She saw Tali, Liara and Miranda's names flashing in a long list.

A beep came from the intercom system and a voice spoke up, catching her immediate attention.

"Commander Shepard, incoming communications from Urdnot Wrex."

Shepard looked up to see Samara standing and gazing back at her from the doorway of the balcony with a hint of sadness in her eyes. Feeling her jaw tighten, Shepard straightened as she headed over to the intercom.

"Put him through."

A life-size holo of the krogan appeared beside the wall.

"Shepard!"

"Wrex."

"It works, Shepard! The VI drone successfully reported from the Apien Crest!"

"That's great," Shepard said, trying to focus her thoughts on everyone who would finally be able to return home.

"Yeah, hah! I can't wait to get back to Tuchanka. No offense, Shepard, but I've had enough of this planet."

"None taken," Shepard said with a small smile.

"I just wanted to let you know that once they sort out the madhouse here and we get the green light to take off, Grunt and I are heading out with the rest of the company. I probably won't get the chance to see you before I go so you take care of yourself, you hear?"

"You too, Wrex. Send my regards to Bakara."

"Will do. Oh and Shepard? The Council has been talking to me about signing peace treaties. I told them the only person I'd talk to is you. I imagine you'll be getting a call from your brass soon."

"Guess that means this will be a brief goodbye then."

"Hah, yep. Next time you're on Tuchanka, I'll have two barrels of ryncol waiting for you. Wrex out."

The call terminated and the holo flickered off. Shepard brushed a hand through her hair as she let the bittersweet feeling sink in. She attempted to ignore the guilt her own selfish desires had caused and instead focus on the genuine happiness she felt at the good news that her friends would be returning home.

Glancing up, she met eyes with Samara for a brief second before she turned and thumbed through her flashing omni-tool messages. As expected, all of them told the news of the repaired mass relay.

Another beep penetrated the air.

"Commander, Admiral Hackett is on the line."

"Ready," she said as she hit a button. Hackett materialized where Wrex had been standing moments ago and Shepard saluted.

"Commander, you look well," Hackett said, returning the salute.

"Thank you, sir. I heard the news about the relay."

Hackett nodded. "I figured word would have already reached you. There's something else. Initial communication coming back from the drone is reporting that there are contested hot-zones in multiple systems along the Skyllian Verge."

"There's still fighting?" Shepard asked, alarmed.

"Not Reapers," Hackett replied reassuringly. "It looks like some mercs have been trying to take advantage of the situation while all the fleets have been gone. They've taken over several colonies and have wreaked havoc on most of the remaining trade routes in the sector. Taking advantage of everyone while they are at their weakest-" Hackett shook his head in disgust. "We'll need to remind them that there's justice in the galaxy and that there are laws to answer to. You have been cleared for duty. There's a shuttle coming to pick you up shortly. The Normandy and her crew will be prepped for your arrival. You will have the best chance to get in and out and resolve this situation quickly."

"Yes, sir."

"There's more. I've received word from the Council that they want you to oversee the negotiating efforts with the krogan."

"I heard from Wrex."

Hackett nodded. "I'm sure they will be in touch soon. The treaties will be your top priority as we cannot afford another krogan rebellion on our hands, but hopefully this merc problem won't take too long. And we still have your medal presentation ceremony to attend to, Shepard. Don't think we've forgotten."

Shepard nodded.

"I'm counting on you, Commander. Hackett out."

The hologram disappeared.

Shepard took in a deep breath.

_It never ends, does it? This is exactly what Samara was talking about._

Shepard looked at Samara again, regret and apology written in her features. Samara gazed back with understanding eyes and gave Shepard a small nod.

"We should prepare to depart," Samara said simply.

* * *

Samara made her way through the crowded indoor spaceport. Aliens of every species bustled around in a flurry of activity, all eager to return to their home systems. Intercom announcements regularly punctuated the air in the background; a calm female voice announcing flights set for departure.

Shepard trailed a step behind Samara and was finishing a call with Zaeed Massani, an old friend as well as a merc. Zaeed had contacted Shepard with information on how to tackle the mercenary problem in the Skyllian Verge. Apparently, the ring leader was none other than Vido Santiago, a crime lord that had once eluded Shepard by endangering innocents in a burning refinery. Zaeed was offering Shepard information on his current whereabouts in exchange for another chance to take him down.

"-have my word, Zaeed. I'll get in touch with you again soon," Shepard said. As she terminated the call on her omni-tool, she increased her pace to walk in step with Samara.

"Did you secure transport?" Shepard asked. "If not, you are welcome aboard the Normandy, you know."

"Thank you, Shepard, but I did. An asari vessel that is set to depart shortly has agreed to drop me off on Thessia. I can arrange for transportation to Lesuss from there." Samara glanced at the commander, noticing the slightly crestfallen expression on the human's face. Feeling rueful but resolved, Samara continued on. "We should part ways here, Shepard. I do not wish to interfere with your duties."

"I can walk you to your terminal."

Samara stopped and turned to face the human, her brows knitting slightly. She knew dragging this out would only make it more painful. "Shepard-"

"Please, Samara, let me accompany you a little further."

Samara felt Shepard's hand slip into hers. She hesitated a moment but did not resist. Instead she nodded once, turned and continued moving in long strides towards her destination.

Samara had known this day would come. She had tried very hard to remain aloof but it had been incredibly difficult. Truth was, she had relished the past few weeks as much as Shepard had. She had struggled, day after day, to maintain her equanimity. Remaining idle had not helped matters at all. Being stuck in the same space with Shepard for so long had been both a blessing and a curse. While she thoroughly enjoyed the commander's company, she also realized they were treading dangerous waters—both flirting with something they could not have.

Samara had allowed herself to indulge a little, _but now—Now_ she would have to put her foot down.

Upon entering a new terminal, she stopped once more.

"This is far enough, Commander. It appears I will miss your award ceremony so let me congratulate you here." Unable to stand the misery in Shepard's gaze, she looked down at their hands and reached out to take both of the human's in hers. Her voice softened. "Thank you for everything. You have done more for me than I can ever thank you for."

"Must you go?" Shepard asked quietly.

"You already know the answer to that," she replied, once more meeting Shepard's eyes. The pleading and dejection she saw in them caused her resolve to waver slightly. She took a small breath to steel her will.

"These past few weeks with you have been a welcome respite from the storm that is my life. However, I have known all along that it would not last. I am bound to my duties; as are you." Her eyes roamed over Shepard's face, trying to commit as much of it to her memory as possible. "Forget me, Shepard, and move on with your life. You have so much to offer someone, but that someone is not me."

Mustering up all of her self-control, she released Shepard's hands and turned to leave. "Farewell, Commander."

She had barely taken a step when Shepard's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, halting her. Standing with her back to the commander, she closed her eyes, feeling unusually at war with her emotions. Finally, after gathering her composure, she turned back around to face the human.

Dampness was pooling in Shepard's eyes and the sight of them caused pain to the justicar. Aware of the unfamiliar heat building behind her eyes as well, Samara brusquely stepped forward, desperate to avoid tears. Leaning in close to Shepard's ear, she felt warmth as their temples brushed together.

"Please," she said, her normally even voice wavering ever so slightly. "Let go."

She felt Shepard's grip loosen, reflexively complying with her request. Pushing the human's hands away, she firmly avoided Shepard's gaze and turned once more.

She began to walk, her legs moving her forward in long, purposeful strides.

Only vaguely aware of the general direction she was heading, the people and sounds around her blended into a chaotic blur. Some distant part of her mind realized that this was a dangerous lapse in defense for a justicar, but she could still feel Shepard's hand on her wrist, could still smell the scent of shampoo from the human's hair, could still feel the tingle of warmth on the side of her head.

The moisture in her eyes threatened to spill down her cheeks, but they did not. Instead, as she reigned in all of her emotions, they evaporated into the dry, filtered air.

* * *

A/N: It may not seem like it, but we're nearing the end.

Thanks again to Zant and his minions for the beta. :)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks to Zant for the beta!

Also, thanks to the people who have been leaving feedback and/or giving suggestions (shout-out to FlyingFleshEater). I read all of them and edit stuff as necessary so please don't hesitate to point errors out. My beta and I are only human after all. (Well, I'm human. Zant lives in the twilight realm or something.)

Okay, without further ado...

* * *

Shepard peeled off her hard-suit as she walked into the Starboard Observation Lounge. Tossing the armor haphazardly into a corner, she sat down on the center of the floor and stared into the great empty void of space.

They had just found and killed Vido Santiago on Antibaar, a planet in the Armstrong system along the border of the Skyllian Verge. It had taken over a week to track and locate him, even with Zaeed's intel. Shepard had originally wanted to take Vido into Alliance custody, but the crime lord had pressed his luck and a burst of Zaeed's gunfire had ended any future headaches.

Minus a few nicks and scrapes to Zaeed and James—both of whom were being treated in the infirmary by Dr. Chakwas—her crew had completed the mission unscathed. The same could not be said for the Blue Suns. With the head of the snake cut off, the rest of the mercs would undoubtedly scatter, making it easier for the Alliance to reclaim the territory. Not that there were many Blue Suns remaining after the past week...

Shepard scrubbed a hand through her hair. From here, she needed to head back to Earth, where the Council was waiting for her. Presumably, she'd have to attend her own medal presentation ceremony, and then she would be off to Tunchanka for a series of negotiations with the krogan.

Garrus, Liara and Tali had opted to remain onboard with Shepard for this one final mission, but she guessed that they would be leaving after the ceremony to return to their home planets and begin rebuilding their lives anew.

_Everyone will be spread out soon_.

She continued to stare listlessly at the stars, feeling her mind go blank.

After several minutes of silence, she heard the door slide open, someone enter, and the door slide shut again.

"Hey Skipper, mind if I join you?"

Shepard glanced over her shoulder.

"Sure, Ash," she said. Her voice felt rough from extended non-use. "Technically I stole this space from you."

"Don't worry about it. The port side lounge is better anyway." Ashley moved to sit down beside her friend. "There's a bar," she added, grinning.

Shepard heard herself chuckle softly, though the mirth did not extend fully to her eyes.

"And she smiles," Ashley said, her tone light. "I think that's the first one I've seen on you all week." Pausing slightly, a concerned expression appeared on her face. "So, what's going on, Commander?"

Shepard was about to deny that anything was going on when Ashley cut her off.

"And don't tell me that nothing's up. Aside from duty, debriefs, and missions, you've been holed up in here ever since we left Earth."

Shepard said nothing and instead turned to look at the stars again.

"Look, I don't mean to pry, but we—that is, all of your friends—are worried about you."

"There's nothing to worry about, Ash. I'm fine," Shepard replied automatically.

"Like hell you are!" Ashley said, sounding determined. "I've known you for how long now? We've been through how much together? And this is the first time I've seen you like this. That fire in your eyes is completely _gone_."

At the silence that followed, Ashley pressed on. "Does it have something to do with the justicar? Samara?"

Shepard hesitated before turning her head to peer at her, a brow raised. "What have you heard?"

"Just that this used to be her room during the Collector mission. And, of course, I knew you'd been spending a lot of time together on Earth. _And..._ Tali _might_ have mentioned something about Samara rejecting you once."

"Scuttlebutts."

Ashley grinned. "Can't help it, ma'am. You are just that charming. No one can resist talking about you."

Shepard snorted and punched Ashley's arm.

As their smiles slowly faded and a comfortable silence descended over them, Shepard resumed her stargazing.

"Twice," she said suddenly.

"I'm sorry?" Ashley asked.

"She rejected me twice." Shepard turned to look at her friend and for the first time, she was unable to keep the pain from showing in her eyes.

"Do you love her?" Ashley asked with an understanding expression.

The question caught her off guard and Shepard paused momentarily. After considering her response, she nodded and said, "Yes."

"She not feel the same?"

Shepard gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Or—let me guess. Duty?"

Shepard looked down and nodded. "Something like that."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, when are you going to tell Hackett you're retiring and go after her?"

Shepard's eyes grew large as she stared at Ashley.

"Oh, come _on_, Skipper," Ashley said. "The Reapers are gone. You've found someone you love. Someone who, I presume, makes you happy. I can't think of anyone else in the universe who deserves happiness more than you."

Shepard's stunned expression did not abate and Ashley continued. "Look, as a fellow soldier, I understand you probably feel committed to your duty, to serve. But you've already done _so much_. Hell, you've given your life—_twice_, by my count—to save the world. I don't think the world will hold it against you if you choose to live for yourself a bit." She reached out and placed a friendly hand on the commander's shoulder. "Life's too short, Shepard. You never know what tomorrow brings. You gotta hold onto what's precious before it's too late, you know?"

As the words settled in, Shepard slowly shook her head and smiled.

"When did you get so wise, LC?"

"I'm not just all looks, you know."

Unable to keep a straight face, the two burst out laughing. Eventually, as the laughter wound down, Shepard regarded Ashley with a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Ash," she said, nudging her friend on the shoulder.

"You got it," Ashley replied, mirroring the nudge. "Oh, and Skipper? After you retire... Can I have the Normandy?"

* * *

"Thank you," Samara said as she took the plate from her daughter and sat down. Falere joined her a moment later and they began to eat.

It had been a little over a month since Samara arrived on Lesuss. As promised, Falere had not left the monastery and had instead been working towards cleaning and restoring sections of it. Although it'd been slow progress while working alone, she'd managed to make the sleeping quarters and part of the dining hall habitable. It was only after Samara's arrival that their combined biotic abilities had begun to make some real advancement in clearing out large pieces of debris from the courtyards as well as from the western and northern wings.

Falere knew that the main temple on Thessia would eventually either reassign new priestesses to reside in and guard over the monastery or they would relocate her to a new monastery altogether. They were probably still sorting through the aftermath of the war themselves. Either way, she was confident that once formal help did arrive, her life would resume with some semblance of normality and order.

She glanced at her mother, still unaccustomed to her presence after so many centuries apart.

Samara was as she remembered her, and yet, not. Her appearance was largely the same but gone were the loving smiles and carefree laughs. In their place were stoicism and unfaltering will. Still, Falere could sense the warmth underneath; could see the love in her mother's eyes whenever her gaze fell upon her.

Falere also sensed immense sadness. She often caught Samara staring off into space whenever she thought she was alone. At first Falere believed it was due to their awful situation; Falere herself was still reeling from Rila's death. Knowing that her mother had caught up to Mirala and had been the one to end her life... That could not have been easy. Yet, while the death of her sisters were undoubtedly a contributing factor, she sensed there was something else that was causing her mother much grief.

She had a suspicion it had something to do with the human commander who had assisted them during the Reaper attack. She'd witnessed the absolute fear and panic in the commander's eyes when Samara had attempted to take her own life; seen the way they'd looked at each other afterward, before the human had departed. But most telling of all were the slight flickers in the depths of Samara's eyes whenever there was any mention of the commander now.

_Commander Shepard. Hero of the Citadel, Savior of the Galaxy, Vanquisher of the Reapers. Hmm._

Falere knew it was not forbidden for justicars to have romantic entanglements. While uncommon, she'd heard of justicars getting involved in relationships—though they were usually with each other. Had her mother fallen for this commander, then?

She glanced at Samara again to find that she'd stopped eating. Instead, she was staring down at her plate of food as though it held the answer to the universe.

"Mother?"

Samara broke out of her reverie and lifted her head to look at Falere.

"Is the basticscio not to your liking?"

"No, it is... very good. I apologize. I was lost in a memory."

"I've noticed that seems to happen a lot," Falere pressed gently.

"You are very perceptive."

"I'm your daughter," Falere said simply.

"Forgive me. I... have had much on my mind."

"Is it Commander Shepard?"

Falere caught the flicker in her mother's eyes again, like a shadow passing through the depths.

"I am sorry. Excuse me," Samara said softly as she stood and exited the room.

Falere frowned.

_Hmm._

* * *

Falere was in the courtyard planting some new flowers into the soil when Samara approached her.

"I apologize for my earlier behavior," Samara said. "The direction of the conversation was quite unexpected."

"It's okay, mother." Falere straightened and turned to face Samara. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to know why you've seemed so sad."

Samara looked down at the ground a moment before meeting Falere's gaze.

"You were correct. Commander Shepard has been in my thoughts. It must seem strange to you since I am a justicar-"

"I know justicars aren't forbidden from relationships. The ones that used to bring other Ardat-Yakshi here were sometimes involved with each other."

"Ah," Samara murmured in understanding.

"So, you have feelings for this Shepard?"

Samara's eyes widened, then she nodded slowly.

"And she has feelings for you?"

Samara nodded again.

"Then... what is the problem?"

Samara blinked and looked at a loss for what to say. She never imagined that she would be having this conversation with her daughter.

"It is complicated," she managed to reply.

Falere could not help but giggle. "When is it not?" She asked. At the nonplussed expression on Samara's face, Falere continued. "I may not have much—okay, _any_—experience with romance, but from what I've read... it is never simple."

A touch of guilt crossed Samara's face and the emotion was not lost on Falere.

"Wait, you aren't hesitating because of _**us**_, are you?" Falere asked.

Samara cast her eyes down at the ground. "It does seem unfair, knowing that my children will never experience any of the joys."

"Mother! My condition is _not_ your fault. Rila and I have _never_ blamed you. You can't just... _punish_ yourself because of what happened with us. You can't _not allow_ yourself to be in a relationship just because I can't be in one!" Falere reached out to take her mother's hands. "The last thing I want is for you to suffer even more. If anything, you should be experiencing all the joy you can to make up for what Rila and I will never get to experience. At least one of us will be happy then and defy this horrible fate that fell upon us."

Relief shone clearly in Samara's eyes as she met her daughter's gaze, but she shook her head.

"It is not that simple."

"What else is there?" Falere asked. "Your code doesn't forbid it. Your daughter is supportive of it. So, what else?"

"I will always be bound by the Code and Shepard will always be bound to her duties."

"Distance, then? Well, I know there's no quitting the Code... but Shepard is a soldier, right? Can she not leave the human military?"

"She would not be able to abandon her duties."

"How do you know that? Have you asked her?"

"I cannot ask for such a thing."

"Well," Falere said, looking past Samara's shoulder. "It appears you won't need to."

Eyes wide, Samara turned to see a figure approaching from the other end of the courtyard. Her heart seemed to stop as she recognized the form and the movement.

She watched as the visitor made her way across the courtyard and stop several yards away, running a hand through her hair with a tentative smile on her face.

"Hey," Shepard said.

* * *

Spotting the two asari, Shepard began to descend the steps into the courtyard. As she made her way towards the pair, she saw Samara turn to watch her, causing her heart to hammer and her gut to squirm. Mustering up every last bit of her legendary courage, she stopped just short of the asari and nervously ran a hand through her hair.

"Hey," she said.

"Commander Shepard." Falere smiled pleasantly and inclined her head in greeting.

Shepard mirrored the motion. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all. I was just about to head inside, actually," Falere said, her smile growing. "Excuse me." She gave Samara's hands a squeeze before she disappeared into the building behind them.

Shepard cleared her throat. "Hi," she began again, refocusing her attention on Samara.

"Shepard, what are you doing here?"

_I was in the neighborhood? No, now is probably not the best time for humor._ "I came to see you," she said and internally cringed at how awkward she sounded.

"You are not in your Alliance uniform," Samara said, examining Shepard's clothes.

Shepard glanced down and straightened her jacket unconsciously. "I, uh, retired." She looked up into Samara's wide eyes. The clear blue orbs seemed to draw her in and she moved closer to the asari, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief when Samara did not back away. "Only, I don't think I'm cut out for lazing around on a warm beach somewhere. So, I thought to myself... What better way for a soldier to retire than to run around the galaxy with the person she loves, while continuing to fight the good fight?" She reached out and took Samara's hands, feeling braver by the second when Samara did not resist.

"You wish to accompany me on my justicar duties?"

Shepard nodded. "If you'll have me, yes."

"You cannot know what you are asking."

"I have a pretty good idea of what I'm getting myself into. A life of constant danger, hardships, many near death encounters, lots of traveling, hard beds, and an endless stream of bad guys who want to kill you..." Shepard let out a lopsided smirk. "Sounds kind of familiar, actually."

Samara appeared unconvinced and Shepard's expression grew serious.

"Look, Samara, I've spent all my life fighting for peace. Fighting to bring about peace. But the only time I've ever felt completely_ at peace_ was when I was with you. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. Teach me the Code, I'll memorize it. Then, I'll help you as you go around taking it to the bad guys."

"What about your career?"

"What about it?"

"Your promotion. You were to be the youngest Admiral in Alliance history."

Shepard let out a little chuckle and her eyes softened.

"I don't care about that. It was never about that. I've always just wanted to do my part—to make a difference—and I'll still be able to do that if I'm with you. This works out perfectly." She ran her thumb gently over the back of Samara's hand. "So, any other concerns? I can do this all day."

"You have given this a lot of thought."

"Oh, you have no idea. I've actually been thinking about this since our Collector mission. Only, back then, I didn't think I was going to survive." She licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry. "I always vaguely knew that running off with you would be an enticing option if I made it out of everything alive. I didn't say anything immediately after the war because of the whole relay thing. It didn't seem appropriate when so many lives were still hanging in the balance. Then afterward... Well, there were missions that I needed to take care of. But those are done. Vido's dead. The krogan treaties were just signed a few days ago. Ash and the rest of the Alliance can handle things from here."

She waited to see if Samara had any further protests. Not hearing any, she took a deep breath and stepped a little closer.

"So, what will it be? Will you have me?"

Feeling her heart pounding in her ears, she stared into Samara's eyes, every ounce of her being hoping for the answer she so desperately wanted.

Samara hesitated for a moment, her eyes betraying the conflict within. The pause seemed to stretch forever to Shepard.

Finally, just when Shepard was beginning to brace herself for the worst, Samara lifted her hand to touch Shepard's cheek.

"Yes."

Shepard whooped, making a sound between a surprised laugh and a strangled cheer. She placed her hands on the asari's waist and drew her in, feeling her skin tingle pleasantly from the contact. A huge smile lit up her face as she held Samara's gaze. After a moment, she slowly leaned in. Unlike the last time she tried this, she felt warm lips meet hers. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the softness of the kiss.

It was like a dam had been released. She could feel all of her built up tension and doubt vanish; feel the tattered edges of her soul begin to heal. Happiness gushed through her body, leaving her knees feeling weak.

As the kiss broke, she met Samara's eyes again, seeing more emotion in them than ever before: hope, fear, excitement, and _happiness_.

She dipped forward and captured Samara's lips in a firmer, more desperate kiss.

Unimaginable energy surged through her. She wanted to jump, to shout, to scream and cheer. Instead, she tightened her grip on Samara's waist, lifted her a few inches off the ground, and pivoted, causing them to spin in place.

Samara gasped in surprise, breaking the kiss, and Shepard laughed; a hearty, unadulterated sound of joy.

As she lowered Samara back onto the ground, an amused smile appeared on the asari's face. Samara's hands, which were cradling the sides of Shepard's head, gently moved to cup her face.

Shepard closed her eyes and tried to commit every sensation to memory. She never wanted to forget this moment: The moment when she felt absolutely _complete_.

* * *

A/N: I came _very_ close to ending the story here since I accomplished my mission of bringing the pair together.

Ultimately, I decided that I wanted to explore Shep & Samara's relationship a bit more so I have one final chapter in the works. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Footsteps echoed in the silence as Samara led Shepard up the winding stairs of the Justicar Tower in the eastern wing of the temple. The tower was cylindrical in structure, sturdily reinforced and one of the few areas that had been largely untouched by the Reapers due to it being unoccupied at the time. The hour was late and the monastery's inhabitants were turning in for the night. Dim lights along the walls bounced off the pair's silhouettes and created long shadows throughout the empty hallways.

Reaching a tall door, the matriarch stopped. "I have been residing in here," she said, gesturing to the room beyond. "However, it might be best if you were to take up residence in the next chamber."

Shepard wound an arm around Samara's waist and frowned.

Samara smiled slightly at the human's pouty expression. "We are in a monastery after all, Shepard."

The commander tightened her grip, a glint of determination in her eyes. "I can behave. I just want to be near you." As though to illustrate her point, she pulled them closer together.

After a moment, Samara acquiesced. Taking Shepard's hand, she drew her into the room.

The bedchamber was semicircular in structure and had a high, sloped ceiling. Large windows stretched across the entire length of the curved wall, revealing a breathtaking nighttime view of the secluded Lesuss landscape. Inside, the designs were spartan; lots of neutral colors and minimal decorations.

As Shepard looked around, Samara approached a dresser and withdrew some clothing. She then excused herself and went through a door which Shepard assumed led to an ensuite bathroom. Alone in the room, the human approached the large window and gazed outside.

The moon was bright and nearly full. Stars could be seen shining in the clear, night sky. Snow-capped mountains dominated the incredibly quiet and peaceful landscape.

Shepard smiled, feeling relaxed.

Turning back towards the room, she removed her jacket and light body-armor. Placing them on a chair, she reached for her weapons and belt. Removing them as a bundle, she placed everything in a neat stack on top of each other.

As she was shrugging off her boots, Samara returned to the room, wearing long, flowing white robes which reminded Shepard of a toga. The golden justicar collar gleamed around her neck. Her usual red armor was in her hands and she moved across the room to store it.

Shepard stared.

Noticing the undivided attention, Samara regarded the commander with an amused expression.

Shepard grinned sheepishly. "I don't think I've seen you wearing anything other than your armor before. You're breathtaking."

Samara smiled. "It is tradition for justicars to don priestess robes while resting in the temple. Anywhere else and I would simply sleep in my armor."

"No complaints here," Shepard murmured, looking slightly punch-drunk.

"Would you like robes as well or are you comfortable enough?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm good. I'll just sleep in my tank top and these pants. Maybe tomorrow I'll go retrieve my sweats from my ship."

"You have a ship?" Samara asked, appearing mildly surprised.

"Just got it a couple of days ago. It's a mini frigate that's been refurbished and converted for civilian use. It's nowhere near as advanced as the Normandy, of course, but she gets the job done. And she's small enough that no crew's required to operate her."

Samara seemed to be considering this information and Shepard continued, "We don't have to use her. I can park her on Thessia if justicars are required to travel by hitching rides or something."

"The Code does not make any demands on our transportation," Samara said, smiling. "However, it is probably best for us to travel among the public whenever we can. I receive a lot of information and requests that way."

"Okay, and I'm sure Liara won't mind if I leave my ship at her estate."

"Is Dr. T'Soni back on Thessia?"

"Yeah, she received an offer from the University of Serrice to head some program. A good cover for her brokering activities, I guess."

Samara appeared to want to say something but then thought better of it. "The washroom is through that door," she said, gesturing to the doorway she'd just gone through. "The cabinets should contain everything you need."

Shepard nodded her thanks and headed into the bathroom. After washing up, she headed back out into the main room to find Samara sitting on the floor by the windows, meditating.

"Is there a side of the bed you prefer?" Shepard asked.

"No."

Approaching the nearest side, Shepard climbed in and stretched out, feeling rather tired from all the traveling and excitement of the day. Working up her courage to lay her heart on the line had been more exhausting than most firefights.

After a few minutes, just as she was beginning to doze off, she heard Samara rise and turn off the lights. Moonlight shone in through the large windows and bathed the space in a soft glow, illuminating just enough to discern outlines. As Samara slid into her side of the bed, Shepard reached over and took her hand, placing a kiss on it before twining their fingers together. The pair settled side-by-side, facing each other, with no physical contact other than the hands clasped between them.

"Good night, Shepard."

"Night, Samara," Shepard mumbled. It wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep, a happy smile clinging to her face.

* * *

Samara began to stir as the first rays of morning light shone into the room. As she slowly gained consciousness, she tried to change her position but found that she was pinned by a weight around her waist. Glancing down, she realized that she and Shepard had shifted during the night and that Shepard was now pressed against her side. An arm draped loosely around her torso, holding her, and their legs were slightly tangled.

A small smile appeared on her face and she tentatively allowed herself to bask in the warmth and security of the moment. As she turned her head to regard the human woman, she felt a sense of wonderment overtake her. Never could she have imagined that she would be in this position—both figuratively and literally.

Just three years ago—a momentary blink in the long-span of her life—she had firmly believed that she was past all need for social attachments. She was at peace with the direction of her life and had no desire for bonds or relationships.

Then, Shepard had appeared and opened her eyes to what life could still offer her. She'd initially rejected the commander; choosing to ignore her feelings. In hindsight, if she was to be completely honest, there was a part of her that had been afraid. Change was not easy after so many years and she had been hesitant to open herself up again.

Just six months ago, she'd truly believed she would perish in battle. The Reaper war was waging throughout the galaxy and she was fighting at the front lines. Her chance of making it through was slim but she was at peace with that fact. She'd led a long life and any sacrifice she could make to help the galaxy succeed was one she would willingly give.

Just yesterday morning, she'd believed that Shepard was fully in her past. When she'd last seen the commander, she'd done her best to encourage the human to forget her and move on. While there was a part of her that had wanted to be with Shepard, the larger, more realistic part told her that nothing would ever be possible between them. The Code and several star systems stood in their way. The only possibility of them being together required too much sacrifice from Shepard. There was no way Samara could ever ask for it. And so, she'd accepted that Shepard was just one more heartache added to her sea of heartaches.

But, Shepard had appeared once more, offering everything she could not ask for. She'd felt her doubts get pushed aside—replaced by Shepard's resolve—and she'd been unable to turn the commander away then.

And now, here they were. Entwined amongst the bed sheets and suffused in feelings Samara hadn't felt in hundreds of years.

How unexpected life could be.

Running her fingers along Shepard's forearm, Samara marveled at their similarities and differences. The human's general structure was the same, but her color was a huge contrast—warm and tan opposed to her cool and blue. Shepard's skin also felt more tender and soft. The softness, Samara surmised, was due in part to the barely visible hairs all over the human's arm. Since asari were hairless, Samara found herself fascinated by the tiny strands.

Shepard's breathing changed a second before she felt the arm around her pull her into a tighter embrace. She heard a contented sigh as Shepard nuzzled her shoulder.

"Good morning," Samara said softly.

"G'morning," Shepard murmured happily.

They remained snuggled together for a minute before Samara turned to face Shepard. "I am going to use the washroom first," she said as she gently extracted herself from the embrace.

Eyes still closed, Shepard made a noise between a protest and an acknowledgment. Samara smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on the human's temple.

After retrieving her armor, she padded over to the washroom, disrobed, and stepped into the shower. The running water felt invigorating and it fully awakened her. After cleaning herself thoroughly, she toweled off and dressed.

Stepping back out into the bedroom, she saw that Shepard was still sprawled on the bed.

"I am going ahead to the dining hall to prepare breakfast," Samara said. "Feel free to use the washroom and come find me once you are ready."

Shepard sat up. "Wait."

Lifting a brow in question, Samara watched as Shepard climbed out of bed and padded towards her with bare feet. Once in range, Shepard leaned in and placed a chaste but firm kiss on Samara's lips.

"Okay," she said, smiling at Samara. Joy seemed to radiate from her.

Samara could not help but return the smile as she turned and exited the room.

* * *

Shepard made her way into the dining hall to find Falere seated at one of the long tables.

"Good morning, Commander Shepard. Mother is still preparing breakfast but should be joining us shortly," Falere said.

"Good morning. And please, it's just Shepard now," Shepard said, seating herself opposite the asari.

"All right, Shepard," Falere said, nodding. "I never got the chance to properly thank you for your assistance during the Reaper invasion. If you had not arrived when you did..."

Shepard shook her head. "Don't mention it. I'm just sorry I didn't arrive earlier. Your sister was the real hero that day."

"Yes, she was," Falere replied, a sad expression crossing her face. "Still, we're lucky you arrived at all. Without your help, there's a good chance all of us would have perished under the onslaught."

"Samara is strong. She would have gotten you out safely."

"I sense that you truly believe that, and I am glad." Falere glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone. "I'm also glad that you are here now. Mother's had a very hard life ever since Father passed away. She deserves to be happy."

Shepard lifted a brow. "So you know that Samara and I..."

Falered smiled and nodded. "I had to ask her about it, but I haven't seen her this happy since I was very young."

"Well, I'm glad you approve of us..." Shepard gave a small, lopsided grin and lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck. As she set her hand back down, she looked across the table at Falere. "You mentioned that your father passed away. May I ask what happened?"

A sad look crossed the asari's face. "She died in an accident on Thessia. Her shuttle collided with a large freighter that had spun out of control. She was pronounced dead at the scene."

"I'm so sorry."

Falere let out a wistful smile and shook her head. "At least it was quick and she didn't suffer." Her expression turned somber. "But it was one thing after another. A few years after the accident, we discovered that Rila, Mirala and I were Ardat-Yakshi. Rila and I were sent here. Mirala ran. And my mother became a justicar."

Shepard felt at a loss for what to say, but she suspected that her expression said it all.

"She's had an incredibly hard life," Falere continued. "Which is why I'm grateful you're here. If she can find some measure of happiness with you..."

"I promise I'll do everything in my power to make her happy and keep her safe."

Falere beamed. "Thank you, Shepard."

* * *

"Before we begin, there is something I need you to understand," Samara said, looking more serious than usual. Shepard straightened and focused intently on her, feeling slightly amused at how the asari made her feel like a student who was eager to earn the approval of a teacher.

"As you already know, I am a justicar. However, the Code is not merely something I follow. The Code is who I am. It is a part of me, and no longer separable by choice. What I mean is this: There will come a time when you will disagree with an action that I am required to take." Shepard made an expression like she wanted to say something but Samara quickly pressed on. "I know you, Shepard, and your compassion and forgiveness are what make you wonderful. The Code is not flexible, however. It does not operate on shades of grey. There is no forgiveness or mercy. I may be forced to kill someone whom you feel should have been spared or saved. You will feel guilt and helplessness. Perhaps even anger. This will be a point of contention between us.

"In a healthy relationship, compromise is something in which both partners engage in. Compromise, however, is not something I am able to do—at least, not where the Code is concerned. It will be you that will have to continually make accommodations. In time, you may resent this. You may begin to question whether I truly love you. You may wonder if I would choose you over the Code. But know this, Shepard: Even if I loved you with all of me—loved you more than I loved myself—I would still be bound to the Code. It is not a matter of choice.

"I know you have said that you understand what you are getting yourself into, but I would like you to take a moment to consider again. We have not gotten so far in our relationship that it would be impossible to disengage now."

Samara's voice lowered a bit. "Also know this: While it is possibly too early to speak of lifetime commitments, you are the first and only person in the past 400 years whom I can see myself with. I do not take this lightly. Therefore, if you have any doubts at all, or if your feelings for me are not that strong, please have mercy on an old broken soul and end this now, before we have a chance to truly begin."

"Samara," Shepard said, leaning forward and taking a hold of one of her hands. "I'm way past the beginning. I knew soon after I met you that this was it—you are the one for me. Do you think I would have come here otherwise?" She looked down at their clasped hands. "From the start, I've felt like we have an understanding—a bond. And even though you broke my heart," Shepard let out a wistful half-smile, "and gave me no reason to hope that we would have a future together, my feelings for you have never wavered or changed.

"Do you know what drove me during the Reaper War?" Shepard asked, meeting the asari's gaze. "The idea that I was building a safe future for you and your daughters. The glimmer of hope that _we_ might be possible if I survived the war. When I decided to destroy the Reapers, the last person I thought of before I lost consciousness was _you_. So please believe me when I say that I'm absolutely certain about this." Shepard stroked her thumb along the back of Samara's hand. "I understand your concerns. You're probably right that I may feel guilty or helpless if I witness the death of someone I can't save. But I think after I've learned the Code, I may be able to help you prevent or get around certain situations to avoid bloodshed."

At the slight alarm that appeared on Samara's face, Shepard hurriedly continued. "Think of Illium when we first met. Had I not been able to find the name of the ship your daughter was on, you probably would have had to kill the officers to escape custody. With me by your side, I will be able to help you find or do things that may otherwise endanger innocents."

Samara's posture relaxed slightly as she considered this.

"At the same time," Shepard added, "you don't have to worry. I promise I'll be careful and never get myself into a situation where I violate the Code. I realize you would have to kill me if I did. Only, if I'm correct, you wouldn't kill me—you would take your own life."

Samara lowered her eyes.

"And I refuse to let that happen. I want to protect you, not hurt you." Shepard lifted Samara's hand and placed a soft kiss on her knuckle.

Samara's eyes met Shepard's again and she moved her hand from Shepard's lips to touch the human's cheek.

"There is a part of me that is warning me. It is saying that we are about to embark on an incredibly difficult and dangerous journey. A larger part of me remains undeterred, however."

"Good," Shepard said. "And, well, at least it'll be exciting, right?"

Samara could not help but smile. "True. I have learned that time spent with you is never dull."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Shepard said, grinning. Turning her head, she placed a kiss inside Samara's palm. Then, leaning forward, captured the asari's lips tenderly in her own.

As the kiss ended, Shepard lingered, her breath lightly caressing Samara's cheek, causing the lids of Samara's eyes to droop. "I wish we were not in a monastery."

Shepard let out a surprised grin at the admission. "Me too. But I have no doubt the wait will be worth it."

She dipped in once more and gave Samara a quick peck. "Now, let's get started. The sooner I learn the Code, the better."

"Yes," Samara agreed, straightening.

Once Shepard settled back into her position, she began.

"I will start with an explanation of the oaths I had to undertake in order to give you a better understanding of what I am bound to. The first vow I took was the Oath of Solitude. In this oath, I swore to give up all worldly ties and all material possessions. The aim was to have no attachments for my enemies to use against me. If you were not who you are, Shepard—if you were not capable of handling yourself should my enemies seek you out—our relationship would be impossible."

"Kill anyone foolish enough to attack me, check," Shepard said while pretending to tick a list off with her hand.

Samara smiled. "The next vows are called the Oaths of Subsumation, of which there are several. In essence, I am pledged to protect the innocent, punish the guilty, and defend the common law and norms of asari society. Justicars such as myself will never attempt to overthrow an existing government, even should the government be judged unjust. Instead, we work to preserve the existing laws of the asari."

"Makes sense," Shepard said. "I can see how it would be incredibly disastrous if justicars were to stage a coup."

"Yes," Samara said, nodding. "As for the Code itself, it consists of five thousand sutras detailing every possible situation one can encounter."

Shepard made sure her omni-tool was recording and logging a transcript before returning her full attention to Samara.

"The first sutra states that..."

* * *

"I will miss you," Falere said, throwing her arms around Samara in a tight hug.

Still not completely accustomed to overt shows of affection, Samara stiffened for the breadth of a second before relaxing into the embrace. Nodding, she touched her daughter's crest. "May the Goddess watch over you."

A couple of weeks had passed and Thessia had finally sent a procession of priestesses to the monastery. While there were talks of temporarily relocating to another temple, the inhabitants were more than likely going to remain through the reconstruction process as no temple anywhere had escaped the Reapers unmarred.

Several priestesses stood in the near distance, giving enough space to Samara, Falere and Shepard for some privacy but still close enough to keep a close watch on the last remaining Ardat-Yakshi.

"Will you come back to visit?" Falere asked softly into her mother's shoulder.

"Yes, whenever I am able."

Swiping at tears on her cheeks, the young asari stepped back. "Goddess watch over you both," she said. Then, turning to Shepard she asked, "You will take care of her?"

Shepard nodded solemnly. "With my life."

A smile lit Falere's face. "Thank you."

Shepard returned what she hoped was a reassuring smile and then glanced at Samara, finding an unreadable expression on the justicar's face. Samara held eye contact for a second, then shifted her attention back to her daughter. Taking Falere's hands, she gave them one final squeeze.

"Farewell, my child," Samara said, lifting her chin slightly.

"Take care, mother."

Samara turned to leave and Shepard bid Falere goodbye as well before following Samara to the landing pad beyond, where her ship was docked.

As they walked, Shepard noticed the tightness along Samara's jaw; saw the steely look in her eyes.

Upon reaching the docking platform, Samara turned her head for a backward glance.

Shepard gently squeezed her shoulder. "She'll be all right. She's strong."

Samara nodded wordlessly.

After another moment, she proceeded up the ramp and entered the ship. Shepard trailed in after her, sealing the heavy doors. They waited a short period for decontamination to complete, then proceeded into the cockpit. Climbing into the pilot chair, Shepard began interfacing with the ship's system while Samara settled herself into the co-pilot seat.

Bringing up the navigation map, Shepard felt a sense of thrill overtake her.

They had the whole galaxy in front of them, free to explore. It would be incredibly easy for them to disappear among the stars. There would be no red tape or politics to be concerned with as they went around fighting crimes and righting wrongs. Just endless possibilities and the two of them. Together. Living in a new time, a new life.

Shepard beamed. As their eyes met, Samara returned a soft smile. The pair gazed into each other, both lost for a brief moment as they contemplated the beginning before them.

"So," Shepard said, a glint in her eyes. "Where to?"

* * *

**The End**

* * *

A/N: A big thank you to Zant for all of his help beta'ing this story.

I hope it was as fun to read as it was fun to write. Please consider leaving a review if you have some time. Even a short and quick feedback could make my day. Thank you! :D


End file.
